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study-coffee-chicago · 2 years

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I Can’t Believe You (A Halstead Brothers + Halstead Sister imagine)

A/N: I've had this idea for awhile and then an anon on asked me about Beary so I figured I'd write this (Note: This is not part of the Seasons of PD/Med universe, I just wanted Beary to be in it. It is a total separate imagine from that series).

Anyways, enjoy!

"You're both leaving for an undercover assignment?" you asked Jay for the second time today.

"Yes, I already told you, Y/N," Jay said as he worked on packing his bag. "Voight needed it to look like we were a married couple, and since Hailey and I are already married, he thought it would work perfectly."

"Don't tell me I have to--"

"I already called Will. I'll bring you over to his place tonight at eight."

"Why?" you whined. "Jay, I'm eighteen. I can handle myself just fine."

"Y/N, this op could go on for weeks. So that means, bad guys have more time to figure out who I really am. And if they figure that out, I don't need you being here by yourself."

"But Will doesn't even own a gun!" you argued.

"Uh, yes he does," Jay said and you cocked an eyebrow. "If you two had bothered to talk for the past year and a half, you'd know he owns one and knows how to shoot it."

"It's his fault with all of this. I told him the truth."

"Yeah, well, we didn't find any evidence to back either of your claims, so you guys have a bit of time to work this out."

"You really can't just have patrol sit on the apartment?" you asked desperately.

"No. I can't have them sit outside our apartment building for who knows how long. You're staying with Will. End of discussion. Now, go pack a bag."

"Seriously?"

"Yes. Now go."

"Jay," you whined. "I'm eighteen and it's the summer before college. I'm gonna spend it all being babysat?"

Jay laughed. "Not all of it. A couple weeks max."

"A couple weeks too many," you muttered as you walked away and to your room.

You and Will had never been super close siblings, but you had been closer before everything popped off a year and a half ago.

You had just turned sixteen a couple of months ago and relished your newfound freedom. And now, it was the holidays, which typically meant that Jay took a bit of furlough and Will came back from New York to spend time with the two of you. Jay's new girlfriend, Hailey, might also spend Christmas Eve with you three. You didn't mind; you really liked her. Plus, it was nice having a girl around for a change.

You were sitting at home watching a movie with your friend, Megan, when there was a knock on the door.

Jay had always told you to either look out the peephole or not answer the door at all when you were home alone. He always told you that he made a lot of enemies with the job he did, and he didn't want you hurt because of it. You were just about to get up and look out the peephole when your phone rang.

It was Will.

"Hello?" you asked.

"You mind opening the door for me? I look like I'm homeless standing outside your apartment with a suitcase."

You laughed. "Yup. I'm coming."

The minute he came inside, he gave you a bone-crushing hug. "Ugh, I missed you."

"Missed you, too," you replied as you pulled away. "But can we not do all this here? I have a friend over."

"Aww, I'm embarrassing you. That's a rite of passage for us," Will joked and then messed with your hair.

"Stop it," you said and moved away from him.

Megan laughed. "Hey, I think it's cool that you have older brothers who are nice to you. I only have an annoying little sister. I wish I had big brothers."

"No, you don't. Any mention of boys around them sends them both into lecture mode."

"Well, I guess I'll go unpack and leave the two of you girls alone," he said and left the room.

What he didn't realize was that he had left his medical bag on the kitchen table in plain sight.

***

"What do you even keep in here anyway?" you asked curiously and pointed to Will's medical bag, a few hours later when Megan had left and Jay was home.

"Stuff that Jay might need because he's injury prone."

"Haha, very funny." Jay rolled his eyes. Then, he moved and started opening the medical bag.

"Hey!" Will yelled. "That's for doctors only."

"And if I'm gonna be the patient, I have a right to know what you're using on me."

Then, Jay started rummaging through the bag, but Will quickly pulled it away from him. "Fine, if you two are that nosy and want to know, then I'll just tell you."

He told you what was in there and then you thought he was finished, but instead, he furrowed his eyebrows and started frantically rummaging through the bag.

"Forget something?" Jay asked.

"Yeah, I can't find the Norco I put in here."

"Isn't that the stuff they gave me when I got my wisdom teeth out?" you asked. "That stuff just made me tired all the time."

"Yeah," Will said. "And I swore I grabbed some--and went through the entire process of getting it--but it's not here."

"Maybe you just left it at home?" Jay suggested.

"No. This is a controlled substance, Jay. I know I had it." Will's eyes locked on yours. If he had left it in the kitchen while he was unpacking, then you could've taken it. "Y/N, did you open my medical bag while I was unpacking?"

"What? No!" you exclaimed. "If you're saying that I took the meds, then you're wrong. You seriously came back in here after being away and just blame me for something going missing, seriously?"

"Nobody's blaming anybody," Jay said quickly. "It was just a question."

"Yeah, well, it sounded like he was blaming me," you muttered.

"Maybe I am," Will shot back.

"Guys," Jay said. "Just hang on a sec. There's no way Y/N stole the meds."

"You weren't even home, Jay! So how would you know?"

In the end, Will left to go back to New York a few days later because he was convinced that you had stolen the meds. Jay even tossed your room because he had been siding with Will. But, really, Jay had no idea who to believe because he hadn't found them, so you were neither guilty nor innocent.

But, when winter break was over, you caught Megan selling them at school. You thought about telling Jay but didn't want to wreck her life this early, so you kept quiet and just stopped being friends with her. You thought about calling Will and explaining the situation, but you knew he'd just tell Jay. So, you kept quiet. And by doing so, you lost your entire relationship with your oldest brother.

"You all packed?" Jay asked after he knocked on your bedroom door.

"Yup. I'm coming." You quickly grabbed your favorite blanket and your pillow and then stuffed your Build-A-Bear, Beary, into your pillowcase, and then stuffed your pillow into your bag.

You had had that bear for as long as you could remember and couldn't sleep without it. Even though you were old enough now that you didn't need to cuddle him up to your chest to fall asleep, you still wanted him within arm's reach. For example, whenever you went to friends' houses to stay the night in high school, you'd shove Beary in your pillow case and then you'd sleep with your hand in the pillowcase to hold his paw or you'd slip him out of your pillow once everyone was asleep and have him next to you, but covered with your sleeping bag so no else could see.

Jay of course knew that you still slept with Beary, and by default, so did Hailey.

"Got everything?" Jay asked when you left your room.

"Yeah. Toiletries are in the duffle bag, too."

"Beary?" he asked. "I don't want you coming back here when both me and Hailey are under."

"In my pillowcase," you answered.

"Still in the same pajamas he's always in?" Jay smirked.

You whacked him on the chest. "Yes. You know as well as I do that all my old Build-A-Bear stuff is in our storage unit."

"Just checking. C'mon. Let's get outta here. Hailey's already waiting for me at the district."

He grabbed your blanket for you and slung his own black duffle bag over his shoulder while you did the same with yours and carried your pillow in your hands.

Time to go see Will and talk to him for the first time in a year and a half.

This was definitely going to be interesting.

***

"Hey, man," Jay said when Will opened the door, and then you and Jay walked into his house. "Thanks for doing this."

"No problem. Well, I mean it was a bit of a problem given--" Jay gave Will a look that made Will shut his mouth immediately. Will cleared his throat. "You wanna stay for pizza?"

"No, I gotta go. But, if you or Y/N need anything, call Adam or Kim. They'll be able to tell Voight to get in contact with me. Y/N has all their numbers."

"Got it," Will said.

You just stood awkwardly in the entryway and watched the exchange with your duffle slung over your shoulder.

"Anyway, I gotta go," Jay said. "Be good," he told you.

You laughed. "Jay, I'm not a little kid anymore."

"Yeah? Well, you're still younger than me, so you know what that makes you? A little kid."

You rolled your eyes and then he pulled you in for a hug.

"Be safe," you told him as tears pricked your eyes. "I can't lose you, too."

Jay smiled sadly. "Always am. You don't need to worry about me. I've got the best team in Chicago watching my six."

And then he went and gave Will a hug and he left, leaving you and your brother who you hadn't talked to in a year and a half alone.

"So," Will started, "I, uh, ordered pizza if you're hungry."

You were a little hungry. "Okay."

***

Dinner went well...as well as it could have gone considering the circumstances. The two of you didn't really talk much. He asked you about school and where you planned to go to college in the summer and you told him CCU, but also assumed that Jay had already told him that you planned on going to CCU anyway. You asked him how work was and he said it was fine. You asked him if he saw any interesting cases lately and he said that he couldn't get into a lot of them because of HIPAA regulations.

Then, you put your plate in the dishwasher and he showed you to the guest bedroom, which was where you'd be staying for the next week or however long Jay was undercover. At least there was a tv in here and a lock on the door. So, you could always hide in here if you needed to get away from Will for a while.

You sighed and opened your duffle bag to grab your pajamas, headphones, and phone charger. Only, the first thing that you saw on top was a pair of jeans, which were definitely too big for you. Okay, so maybe Jay accidentally threw his jeans in your duffle by accident. They were identical black duffle bags after all.

So, you started digging through the bag.

When you got to the bottom, that was when you began to panic.

It's not like you couldn't have Adam or Kim come with you to your apartment to help you get clothes and you could always buy a new phone charger and a cheap pair of headphones that would last you the few weeks you were here. No, the problem was that Beary had been in your duffle bag.

And, he wasn't in this one.

You don't think a day had gone by since you were the age of two that you didn't sleep with that Build-A-Bear. And, you'd be damned if you started now.

Jay had only left an hour ago, so maybe he was still reachable.

You pulled out your phone and quickly dialed Jay's number. No answer. You tried again. No answer. You tried one final time. No answer.

This time though, you decided to leave a voicemail. "Call me. It's an emergency."

You flopped onto the bed and ended the call. You sighed in frustration as tears pricked your eyes.

There was a knock on your door, which caused you to bolt upright.

"What's an emergency?" Will asked from the hallway.

"Uh, nothing! Everything's fine!" you yelled back quickly.

"Doesn't sound fine," Will said and then he paused. "I'm coming in. Are you decent?"

"Yeah," you answered and then sat back down on the bed and crossed your arms over your chest.

"What's going on?" Will asked when he entered and saw your sour expression.

"Nothing," you lied again.

"Didn't sound like nothing."

"I'm not lying to you!" Will threw his hands up in a sign of surrender. "Plus, you'd think it's stupid anyway."

"Contrary to popular belief, I am trying here or else I wouldn't have you staying here. Sure, you're not the easiest person to get along with because of everything that went down, but I can still be decent with you."

You sighed. Maybe he was being truthful. Maybe you should tell him what's going on. After all, you weren't going to call Kim or Adam for this. So really, Will was your only hope.

"I accidentally grabbed Jay's bag instead of mine and...um...Beary's in there and I can't sleep without him," you finally admitted.

Will stared at you for a few seconds and you could've sworn he was going to burst out laughing and tell you to grow the fuck up. Instead, he surprised you by sitting down next to you on the bed.

"I can help you...if you want."

You looked at him and cocked an eyebrow. Who was this guy and what has he done with your brother? "Really?"

"Yeah. After everything between us, we're still family." You started to say thank you, but he quickly cut you off. "This doesn't mean that we're good. It just means that I'm helping you so that you'll be able to get some sleep while you're here."

"Noted."

"We'll check the apartment first. C'mon."

***

"Jay told me not to come here without a cop, so Adam or Kim," you told him as the two of you entered the apartment.

"And you didn't tell me this before, because...?" Will asked.

"Because I knew you wouldn't let me come here if I told you that."

"No, I'd just make you call Kim or Adam so that they could meet us here."

"Well, I don't need them knowing I sleep with a teddy bear."

"Aww, you're embarrassed."

"Shut up. Last I checked, we're not friends, just family."

"Ouch. I never said that."

"Yeah, well you implied it. Now, are you gonna help me look, or are you just gonna stand there?"

"Where do you want me to look?" Will asked.

"Kitchen, living room area. I'm gonna check my room. But, I could've sworn I put him in my bag when I was packing."

Then, you walked off to your bedroom.

First, you looked at your bed and even patted down your pillows. You knew you had shoved him into your pillowcase, but maybe he fell out.

Nothing.

Then you looked around your bed on the floor and even under your bed.

Nothing.

You checked everywhere in your bedroom and in your closet. You checked under clothes on the floor and even in your hamper.

Nothing. Absolutely nothing.

You sat on your bed and put your head in your hands.

He was gone. If he wasn't in your room, you highly doubted he'd be in the kitchen or the living room or anywhere else that Will was looking.

You assumed at this point, that your comfort item was with Jay since he had probably had your bag.

Then you had a thought: What if you never saw Beary again?

After all, Jay was undercover. Anything could happen.

"No," you muttered as tears slowly started to roll down your face. "No."

You and your mom had gone together to get that bear. And now, you might lose the last piece of your mom.

That was what finally broke you. Your body began to rack with sobs as you had that thought.

"I couldn't find him-- whoa. You good?" Will asked as he walked into your room.

You looked up with a glare. "Do I look like I'm fucking good, Will? Of course, I'm not good!"

"What's your problem? I'm trying to help you here!"

At this, you shot up and off your bed and got right up close to Will. "No, Jay made you watch me! I know you didn't choose to do this! You didn't even come to my fucking graduation or see me on my birthdays or send a birthday card! The only reason I saw you on Christmas is because you came to see Jay! I know you blame me for losing your job in New York. You fucking hate me, Will! Just admit it."

Without waiting for Will to respond, you marched out of your room and into the bathroom, slamming the door and quickly locking it.

You remembered the last time you had hope of Will showing up for something. It was a few months ago, at your high school graduation.

Anything from Will? you had texted Jay as you sat in a chair in your high school gym in your cap and gown. You had scanned the crowd where Jay, Hailey, Adam, Kim, Kelly, and Stella were sitting at least ten times by now.

Nothing yet, Jay replied. Then, he sent another text. I'm really sorry Y/N. I've reminded him almost every day for a month.

It's okay, you replied and took a deep breath to keep your tears at bay. You were supposed to cry after your graduation, not before. Then you sent another text. I'm used to it.

Up in the bleachers, this text broke Jay's heart. He knew the two of you had your history, but he never thought it would've gone on for this long.

Unbeknownst to you, Jay had been watching for signs that you were using or dealing after Will had accused you of stealing his Norco. And, he hadn't seen anything. But, he also didn't know anything about this Megan girl because you stopped hanging out with her after she had been at your apartment when the meds went missing. So, he was 95% sure that you didn't steal them, but since he couldn't be 100% sure, he didn't mention anything to Will. He knew that it was your and Will's issue to work out. But, he never thought that Will would hold a grudge against his own sister for this long.

Sure, he had missed things such as your seventeenth and eighteenth birthdays, but that was only because he had been working...at least, that's what Jay had told you. On your seventeenth, he was still in New York, so you had at least expected a card, but one never came. So, when he was back in Chicago for your eightieth birthday, there was a small part of you that hoped for a birthday card, but a large part of you that knew that you wouldn't get one. The larger part of you was right.

But, today was different. It was the culmination of years of late nights and crying over math homework and stupid teachers and projects and exams. You thought Will would at least show up to this since it was his regular day off during the week, a Wednesday, but he wouldn't even do that.

***

"Where do you want to go out to eat, kiddo?" Jay asked after you had gotten pictures with Jay and the rest of the people who had come to see you graduate.

"Can we just go home?" you asked desperately as you tried your hardest to hold back tears. "Please?" Your voice cracked on the last word, giving you away.

Jay smiled sadly. "If that's what you want to do, then we can do that."

"I'm gonna go to the bathroom," you said quickly and then started walking away. You didn't want to cry in front of everyone.

Once in the bathroom, you leaned your head against the bathroom door and let the tears fall. How could you have been so stupid to think that Will would've actually shown up? You should've known he wouldn't come. He still hated you.

You had heard him on the phone with Jay one time saying that he got written up for not having documentation of what patient that Norco went to and what it was administered for. And then, a month later, Will got fired. So, in Will's mind, you had gotten him fired from his job as a plastic surgeon in New York.

"Y/N?"

It was Hailey.

You sniffled. "In- In here," you told her. Then, you unlocked the bathroom stall and stepped out. "Sorry." You frantically began wiping your tears, not even caring about your makeup being messed up at this point.

"No, honey," Hailey said quickly. You don't have anything to be sorry about," she told you.

At that, you almost broke. "I don't- I don't want anyone to see me like- like this," you cried as quietly as you could, but loud enough so that Hailey could still hear you.

"Don't worry. Stella's guarding the door. She even has her CFD badge with her so people believe her when she says a pipe burst and no one can come in here."

"I know- I know I shouldn't care because he doesn't, but I wanted him here. Will should've been here!" you wailed.

"I know, I know," Hailey soothed and then quickly gave you a hug. "I know."

"Mom and Dad aren't- aren't here. Will's not here. I barely have any- have any family left."

"I know it's not the same, but you'll always have people there for you. Me, Kim, Adam, Kelly, Stella, Matt, and everyone else at 51, and Med has your back."

"But why do I still hope that he'll change, Hailey?" you asked. "Why do I keep thinking he'll finally show up?"

Hailey sighed. She knew this feeling far too well. "Until you finally decide in your head and your heart that it's time to let go, then you'll never stop hoping. And then one day, you finally realize that they won't be in your life and you make peace with it. It took me years, Y/N. Years. And, it's okay to have hope that Will will come back into your life; you just have to be realistic about it."

You didn't know what to say to that, so you stood there and hugged her.

"You ready to go back out there? I'm sure if you wanted some takeout Jay wouldn't have a problem getting it."

"And ice cream?" you asked and looked up at her.

"I'm sure I could convince him to stop for ice cream on the way home, too."

"Did I hear something about ice cream?" Stella asked three minutes later when you had wiped your tears and blotted your face with a piece of wet paper towel...which didn't do much, but it had been worth a shot. "Because, if so, I'm ditching Kelly and coming home with you guys."

And that was how you ended the night, instead of dinner, you and everyone who had come to your graduation went out for ice cream. And, on the way home when it was just you, Hailey, and Jay, you stopped at Wendy's to get an actual dinner.

You still wished that Will had been there, though.

"Y/N?" Will asked as he knocked on the door. "You in there?"

"Where else would I be, huh?" you yelled back.

"I dunno, you could've climbed out a window or something and scaled the drainpipe. It's dangerous, but I wouldn't put it past a Halstead. Anyway, I'm sorry."

"Ha. Yeah right."

"No, really I am. I just- can you just let me in?"

You sighed and reluctantly stood up and unlocked the door. "What?"

"I thought you could use some space."

"No, really? Why would you think that? And, if you thought that so much, then why are you bugging me?"

"Listen, you have every right to be upset."

"About you or about Beary?" you asked and cocked an eyebrow and put a hand on your hip, a tactic you had learned from Hailey when she'd ask Jay a question that she knew that he knew she already knew the answer to.

Will sighed and pushed past you into the bathroom, which left you with a frustrated expression on your face. He turned to face you and then you hopped up on the counter and sat there. You crossed your arms over your chest. What could he possibly say that would fix things?

"About me," Will finally answered your previous question. "You didn't deserve to be treated like that. I should've let you explain yourself."

"I tried, Will. I really fucking tried to explain! Hell, I even saw her selling them at school the day we got back from Christmas break!"

At this, Will's facial expression changed from one of forgiveness to one of shock. "What? Did you tell Jay?"

"Of course, I didn't tell Jay!" you snapped. "You would've known about it if I had told him right when it happened, wouldn't you?" You paused. "Sorry."

"No, no, it's okay. I, uh, I probably actually deserve that. All this and the stuff you said to me earlier, I mean. I haven't been the best big brother. I know that."

"The first step is admitting you have a problem."

At this, Will cracked a smile. "You've been spending way too much time at the district, haven't you?"

"Probably."

You thought that the two of you were good enough at this point, maybe not close, more like acquaintances, so you started to walk out of the bathroom.

"Y/N, wait," Will called to your retreating back.

"What?"

"There's something else I need to tell you."

You made your way back into the bathroom so that you were standing directly in front of him. "Which is...?"

He pushed himself onto the counter and then sat there. "You didn't get me fired. Sure, the missing documentation for why the meds were used, did give me a write-up, but I wasn't fired because of it."

"So, it wasn't because of me?" you asked. You needed confirmation on this. You had believed, for a year, that it was your friend's actions—which Will thought had been your actions—that had gotten him fired.

"It wasn't because of you. I guess I pissed off the wrong person at work when I told them that they shouldn't be having more plastic surgery because it wouldn't have any benefits. And, it wasn't medically necessary." He paused and cracked a smile. "Yeah, don't say that to someone whose husband is one of the hospital's biggest donors. I only got a small write-up for not having documentation of who the Norco went to and why it was used."

At this, tears began to fill your eyes. "I thought you hated me. You made me believe that it was my fault, that everything was my fault."

"It wasn't your fault. I guess I should've sided with you in the first place. I trusted you more than I trusted this random friend of yours after all."

"I saw her," you said. "I saw her selling them at school. And- And I didn't tell Jay because I didn't want to ruin her life before she even graduated. If I just would've—"

"No, she sold them. You had nothing to with this."

At this, you stood on your tip toes and hugged Will from where he was sitting on the counter.

"Shh, shh, it's okay," he reassured. "It's okay."

"I thought- I thought I'd never talk to you again. That you'd hate me."

"Well, I don't hate you. And, we're talking right now, so I'd say that was wrong."

At this, you laughed a little. "I guess so."

"Now, I'll give you a few minutes to get cleaned up, and then we can figure out the next steps to go and find Beary."

***

"I cannot believe you're making me call Kim and tell her I still sleep with a stuffed animal," you grumbled as you scrolled through your phone to Kim's contact.

"If you don't want to find Beary, then don't call her. But, if you want to find him, calling Kim and Adam is probably our last chance."

You pressed Kim's contact and she surprisingly picked up on the second ring.

"Burgess," she said.

"Hey, Kim, it's Y/N. Is Jay still at the district with you?" you asked and tapped your foot anxiously.

"He just left about two hours ago. Why? Is everything okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, everything's fine. It's just that...Jay took my bag instead of his and um...uh..." Will rolled his two pointer fingers in the circular motion, silently telling you to wrap it up. "My Build-A-Bear that I sleep with every night is in there and I can't sleep without him. I know it's just a stuffed animal but--"

"Hey, it's a comfort item. Makayla's got her platypus, you have your bear. I'll give Jay a call. He and Hailey haven't had a ton of time yet, which means they're not in super deep with---" She caught herself before she revealed who the team was going after. "They're not in super deep with them yet, so I might be able to get a location for you guys to meet. I'll call you back within an hour."

"Okay, thanks, Kim. And, uh, can you try and not tell everyone the reason for this? Just say I grabbed the wrong bag or something?" You didn't need everyone in Intelligence knowing you slept with a stuffed animal. After all, now half the team, Jay, Hailey, and Kim knew you slept with one, you didn't need the other half knowing as well.

"Will do. I'll call you back soon."

Then, she hung up.

"Good news?" Will asked once you had put your phone back in your pocket.

"She's gonna call Jay," you told him. "She said he shouldn't be in too deep undercover yet, so he might be able to get Beary to me somehow. Said she'll call me back within an hour."

"So, what do you wanna do until then? Just go back home...as in my house?" he asked.

You shrugged.

"Or, we could go split an ice cream mountain?" he suggested.

You laughed. "You're kidding."

"I'm dead serious. C'mon, let's go get some ice cream."

***

The two of you sat at a picnic table outside your favorite ice cream shop in Canaryville. You had been coming here since before you could even remember. And, they had this thing called Ice Cream Mountain, which was three mountains of soft serve ice cream with hot fudge, caramel, Oreos, whipped cream, and cherries all served on a Frisbee.

"You want the first bite?" Will asked.

"You're offering to let me have the first bite? You and Jay always argued over the first bite."

"After everything that's happened, I think it's only fair if I give that up."

"Don't mind if I do." Then, you dug your spoon into a mound of chocolate soft serve ice cream and made sure you had as many Oreo pieces in it as your spoon could manage. "Mhhhhm."

"Good?" Will asked.

"Amazing. Your turn."

And that's how the two of you spent the next fifteen minutes: eating ice cream just like you were kids again. That was until your phone rang.

"Can you get him back?" you asked as you put your spoon down and answered the call from Kim.

"We can get it back. Jay said to meet him in the back parking lot of IHOP. The one near CCU," she answered.

"Okay, we'll be there." You quickly ended the call and then relayed the information to Will. There were only a few spoonfuls of ice cream left which you called dibs on before Will and then ate them.

Then, the two of you were off to go retrieve Beary.

***

"That's him," you told Will. "Unlock the car."

Will quickly did so and Jay looked around and then walked casually to Will's car and hopped in the backseat.

"So, how's the night been?" Jay asked.

"Why's it matter? Give me Beary," you answered quickly. "I swear to God, Jay if you don't have him--"

"Relax, I have him. I just want you to answer the question first."

"It's been good. We got ice cream," you told him. "Ice Cream Mountain."

"So, are you too good now?" Jay asked.

"I think we are," you said. "Will?"

"Yeah, we made up. I even gave her the first bite of Ice Cream Mountain."

"Good. Glad to hear it." Then, he grabbed his phone. "We're all good, guys," he said into it.

"Thank god I can go home now," you heard Adam's voice come from the other end.

Then, the door to the backseat opened again and you froze.

"It's just Hailey," Jay answered.

"You said this would take at least a week," she started. "It only took a few hours."

"Must've been an easy case then," Will said.

"Case? You didn't tell them?" Hailey asked.

"Tell us what?" you asked and looked back and forth between Hailey and Jay.

"There was no case," Jay admitted.

"What? Then why'd you do this to me?" you asked. "You made me freak out and lose Beary for nothing!"

"Technically, he wasn't lost," Jay started to explain. "A few weeks ago, I decided enough was enough between you and Will, so I talked to Hailey and then Kim and Adam and we set this up. There was no case. Me and Hailey were just gonna get a hotel until you made up. But, then I figured it might happen faster if I grabbed the wrong bag and took Beary, so that's what we did."

"You're an ass," Will laughed.

"But, it worked, didn't it?"

"I can't believe you," you stated.

"What's there not to believe?"

"That you would intentionally take Beary from me!"

Jay opened the duffle bag. "He's right here. Safe and sound." He held the open bag to you and he was right. Beary was right where you had thought you had put him in your duffle bag.

"I say we all get IHOP to celebrate," Hailey suggested.

"And that's why we were supposed to come here, too, isn't it?" Will asked.

"Yup. But, you guys just had ice cream, so we can just go home if you want," Jay answered

"Halstead movie night?" you asked.

That was where each of you picked a movie and you watched all three of them together. But, now that Hailey was a Halstead, there would be four movies to watch.

"What's a Halstead movie night?" Hailey asked.

"Of course, he didn't tell you," Will said. And then Will quickly explained what it was.

"Me and Hailey will go get the snacks and you two can go back to our apartment and start figuring out what you want to watch," Jay told you.

"Okay," you said. Then, Jay and Hailey left the car and when they were safely gone, you said, "We're leaving Jay's bag at your house. Karma."

"Deal," Will agreed and then started driving.

You never thought Beary would be what brought you and your oldest back together, but hey, crazier things have happened.

A/N: Thank you for reading and as always, if you want to be added to my taglist, just tell me and I’ll add you!

taglist: @theambracer88 @virtualreader @kelelas-life @celyndavies @brookerz122493 @musicismyescape27 @anotherfan07 @thexplosivegirl @dreamingwithlens @xoxmariaxox @911ls-tarlos @iamasimpingh0e @i-like-sparkly-things @herecomesthewriterwitch @liampayne88 @glitterquadricorn @luvreading67 @smoothdogsgirl @afriendlyneighborhoodhufflepuff

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l0v3lyr0ses · 2 years

Note

Can i ask for oneshot when Monty and Freddy are competing for human her y/n but in the end she has to choose one of them. It's up to you who she would choose.

i lowkey started writing for a different anon I forgot to read which request this is djsk I'mI so dumb but sure thing!

uh this is a difficult decision for a simple-minded human like me fjsk we'll see when I, finish writing!

Characters: Montgomery gator and Glamrock! Freddy

type: Fluff,

TW: mentions of blood and injury

summary: Monty and Freddy are competing to win over a security guard a fairly new one that has only been working for a few months. but since monty has taken a liking to her, she is in charge of him making sure he does not harm anyone. however she likes freddy too and sneaks away to talk to him. she isn't aware that there's two animatronics wrapped around her finger.

y/n glanced at the time, 01:21. it was still quite early, but she should head down to check on Monty. Y/n walks over to the golf area, it was where she was most likely to find him. however no one seemed to be here, it was completely empty and it seemed tidy too. which was a bit odd with um, Monty's habits. "Monty?" She called out, seemingly nobody there. Everything looked normal to her except for Monty not being there, when Monty hasn't trashed it at least. "I should probably look for him in his dressing room.." y/n was about to turn back when she was interrupted. someone had their arms around her waist and reeled her closer to their chest. it was Montgomery, it'd be weird for Chica or Roxy to want anything to do with her frankly, and Freddy was in his dressing room. besides, it felt solid, like metal. "No need, pretty girl." Monty had snuck up behind her, surprisingly she felt hot air against her neck, it must've been some sort of air fan built on him. 'pretty girl' that one was new but she wouldn't admit it to him but it sent her heart flying. "Monty! I was going to check on you but you seem alright." Y/n gives a big smile, but right now at least he seemed fine. "Good to know you have my back!" "wanna play mini-golf with me?" Monty asks, his body close to hers for a moment too long. "Unless ya wanna head straight to Freddy" Monty said the seeming to struggle to say Freddy's name, yet the tone he was using was bitter and cold. they surely hadn't been arguing? she hoped not, because an argument between Monty and Freddy would certainly not end well. however it was odd, it didn't seem like Monty frequently went to Freddy to start conflicts. they seemed on good terms, why was he acting like this? "Sure, Monty. I don't mind playing mini-golf with you" She responds, it's always fun doing anything with Montgomery. and she had been ill last week and couldn't go to work. she missed somewhat slacking on the job. "Alright toots, yknow I won't go easy on ya!" The alligator animatronic chuckles affectionately, taking her hand. Leading the human security guard to the mini-golf. "yknow, I'm gonna win again," Monty said with a toothy, cocky grin. "Hah! in your dreams alligator." "Hey! I've told ya to quit callin' me that!" he growled mildly annoyed, as y/n laughed in the background. The two played a few rounds of mini-golf before she realized y/n needed to check on Freddy. "Hey Monty. I gotta go, Vanessa is requesting my presence" y/n sighed, before packing up her bag. "Ugh, I hate that you can't spend all day with me." He said, crossing his arms. It was a bit funny how upset was. "and that bear is not worth your fuckin' time" he mumbled, again with bitterness towards Freddy. "Unfortunately I do not want Vanessa to yell at me again", "it'll have to be in your dreams, I'm afraid." Y/n giggles, "bye, monty." She reluctantly left for Freddy, it was just always fun with Monty. - She was at Freddy's door and knocked, she didn't want to intrude, many employees didn't bother knocking because they're robots and possibly couldn't from time to time want privacy "Who is it?" Freddy responded, slightly surprised this time of night, anyone would be here. "It's me, y/n." She grinned softly before the door opens. "Hey, superstar! What a pleasant surprise." Freddy said, his gaze affectionate. "I'm glad you feel that way! Um, can I come in?" Y/n asked, nervously looking down at her feet, she wouldn't say y/n is afraid of Freddy but every time she was at his dressing room. she felt this weird nervousness but it didn't necessarily feel bad. "Sure, starlight. You're always welcome here, no need to be polite and knock each time either" Freddy smiles encouragingly at her, 'starlight' had become one of the new nicknames he's started using. it made her heart race. Freddy led her to the couch to sit down like the two usually did, often they'd talk about anything. somehow she always found herself, talking to him for hours at a time. she knew this was slacking on the job but something about Freddy and Monty made her want to spend

so much time with them and luckily she had methods that had it go unnoticed. besides it wasn't like she was completely ignoring her work duties, it was possible to give her a call and she'd pick it up, and she did have the tablet with the cameras on her to glance at every now and then. "Superstar, did meeting Montgomery go as planned?" Freddy was acting resentful towards Monty, in the same sense that Monty was. it seemed so odd, they may not be best friends but right now it seems like they don't tolerate each other at all. "Yeah! Monty actually invited me to play mini-golf with him for a while!" y/n smiled fondly, yet Freddy seemed to glare at the door, despite that Monty was not present. "I see," he grumbled, Freddy didn't seem pleased by that. y/n thought this was weird, she eyed him confused with his resentment and bitterness towards Montgomery. "Well, a child gave me a bag of candy. but I can't exactly eat, I believe they are f/c-" Freddy said in a sudden warm manner. he remembered, her favorite candies, f/c always made her happy. ever since y/n was little, and she had found herself having less money and less time to buy self-indulgent treats. y/n's eyes crinkled in excitement and gave him a friendly smile. "Thank you." "You're welcome, y/n." Freddy reached out for her hand and took it, surprisingly his hand wasn't as hard as y/n imagined it would be. her cheeks flushed bright red, it was a simple gesture. it still sent butterflies to her stomach, - y/n had stepped in the pizza plex for another shift when she hears loud arguing between two people in a distant hallway. yet she could hear it, the two involved were yelling over each other, y/n headed over to investigate what in the world was going on over there. it was Montgomery and Freddy fighting, things seemed heated, both of them seemed to have an iron grip on each other. while screaming on top of each other "I don't give two fucks Freddy! besides, she clearly likes me the best! so the winner of the bet is obviously me" "You and your overconfidence, Montgomery. she's clearly more romantically interested in me, the way she flusters when i call her starlight!" "what the fuck?! she can barely fuckin' speak when i call her 'pretty girl' you best fuck off and leave this to the experienced!" "She obviously wants a mature and responsible lover, you are definitely not that. look at you losing your temper." "I'm gonna tear you to bits for tryna take what's mine!" y/n spoke before things escalated even further, she was worried one of them would get seriously injured and decommissioned! and she'd never forgiven herself if that happened "Hold your horses, this entire thing was because of a bet, and your fighting over me?" y/n spoke up, the two animatronics abruptly stopped what they were doing. "Uh, yes," Freddy said somewhat shamefully, then glaring at the alligator animatronic. "yes! tell this fuckin' idiot that I've won!" Monty stated cockily, right now that was beside the point "You could've just asked me out and see who I say yes to, right? much less risky than an argument and a bet?" y/n scolded the two for creating this chaotic mess. "then pick, doll!" Monty smirks, "The choice is yours, little star." it was a difficult choice since both have good points, Monty always makes her laugh and it's always fun around him, and he can be serious in certain situations too. but he was so overconfident, especially right now. Freddy is a true gentleman, he'd take care of you. No one listens better than Freddy, he always makes her feel wanted and needed. Freddy does have trouble initiating things though, "I pick.." "Freddy, you were my first friend here. I couldn't help but like you very very much"

#security breach #security breach x reader #fnaf x reader #montgomery gator x reader #glamrock freddy #glamrock freddy x reader #glamrock freddy x reader x Montgomery #should i have gone poly-relationship for the ending-

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scuttling · 3 years

Text

Lavender

Fandom: Criminal Minds Pairings: Aaron Hotchner/Female Reader Word Count: 9,244 Tags: 18+, NSFW, Dad's Best Friend Friend From Work Hotch, Me turning a naughty, smutty story into something way more aka my specialty, Fingering, Unprotected sex, Oral sex, Semi-public sex, Office sex Summary: You absolutely dread going home for vacation, to your sickeningly cheery childhood bedroom and opinionated parents, but meeting your dad's friend from work at a stuffy cocktail party has the potential to make this a vacation you'll never forget.*Requested by anon, severely altered by me 😅 Link to A03 or read below! Most people would jump at the chance for an unexpected two week vacation, but you are not most people. When your boss emailed you to inform you that there had been some kind of glitch in HR’s system and you actually had two weeks of paid vacation that were set to expire, your anxiety had kicked into high gear. There isn’t enough time to coordinate travel with any of your friends, too short notice, and you’re kind of afraid to travel alone, though you’d never admit it, so that’s out.

There’s always the prospect of hanging out at home, catching up on all the shows you started but never had time to finish, doing things you’re always too busy for, like cooking and cleaning out your closet and going to the animal shelter to pet the dogs and cats.

Unfortunately, those dreams are crushed when you accidentally let slip during a call to your parents that you have the time off, and they literally insist you come home, will not let you get off the phone without confirming your plans.

You only live about an hour away from them, but for one reason or another, you rarely visit.

The minute you step into your childhood home, you’re reminded of why you rarely visit.

“There’s my little do-gooder!” Your dad is all but waiting at the door when you arrive, pulls you into a hug despite the fact that your hands are full of luggage. “Let me look at you.” He pulls back, hands on your shoulders, acting like it's possible something has changed about you since you had lunch together a month ago in DC. “Oh, you’ve got that serious lawyer hairstyle now,” he remarks with a chuckle, even though your hair is styled the same way it was at that lunch. He might not mean it to come out this way, but it sounds condescending.

“That would be appropriate, considering I am a lawyer,” you remark, trying to keep the snark out of your tone. You know he always means well. “You look good.” He takes his hands off of you and puts them on his stomach.

“Your mom has me on some kind of greens and beans diet, says it will help me live longer.” You smile, a little awkward, not sure what to say about that—your dad is typically the meat and potatoes type, so you figure some variety can’t hurt, but if you say that you’ll never hear the end of it, and you’ve already got a headache.

“Where is mom, anyway?” You shift your bag on your shoulder, and your dad clues in, takes it from you and starts walking up the staircase.

“Oh, she’s at the gym, then taking care of some last minute things for the party.” You pause at the base of the stairs, sigh softly.

“Party?” You weren’t told about any party. Your dad keeps walking, and you’re forced to follow.

“Yeah, nothing major, just some people from the office and their spouses coming over for drinks tonight. Maybe some of their kids,” he adds innocently, and you can’t help rolling your eyes.

By kids, he means sons: eligible sons to try to set you up with. You wouldn’t mind being in a room full of hot, single men vying for your attention any other time—in fact, it’s been a little while, and your most recent hookup was lackluster, so you’re a bit more tightly wound than usual—but the kinds of men your parents bring around aren’t your type at all. You’re career driven yourself, but all they want to talk about is how they plan to be the youngest partner at their firm, or the clubs they can get into, or worst of all, money. Your potentially somewhat relaxing vacation just went to shit in no time at all.

“I didn’t bring anything to wear to a cocktail party.”

“I think mom got you a dress, honey. Check your closet after you get unpacked.” He pushes the door to your former bedroom open, and you’re assaulted by the color lavender; somehow you’d actually forgotten how purple it is. “You’ll look beautiful no matter what you wear.” He sets your bag on the bed—oh god, the frilly purple comforter, you may have actually repressed that memory—and you drop your other luggage there too. “I’ll give you some time to get settled in, maybe order some lunch for us? Vesuvios?”

As irritated as you are about the party, it’s sweet that he remembers your favorite restaurant. You went there for dinner after you graduated from high school, college, and law school, so there are lots of great memories associated with the place.

“Do they adhere to the greens and beans diet?” you ask with a grin, and he puts his finger up to his lips to silence you.

“What mom doesn’t know won’t hurt her, right?” You shake your head fondly, and he slips out of your room and leaves you to it.

You start unloading your clothes into the empty dresser, hanging them in the closet that holds things like your prom dresses, graduation gowns, old cheerleading and volleyball uniforms. Every touch of silky fabric is a memory, and at this point in your life most of them are good, even if they weren’t at the time. It’s kind of nice to remember where you came from, when where you are now can be so hectic, so fast-paced you don’t see the forest for the trees.

Feeling nostalgic, you walk over to your desk, where you spent so much time with your face crammed into textbooks it’s not even funny, and flip through your old stationary set—what teenager had her own stationery? You were a total nerd—and photos you’d taken off the mirror but left sitting in a pile to be packed away eventually.

You snap out of the past after that, finish putting your toiletries away, setting up your laptop and chargers where you want them, then shove your empty suitcases in the closet and grab your phone to head downstairs.

You meet up with your dad in the kitchen, where he is opening steaming takeout containers full of Italian food. You grab some plates from the overhead cabinet and lean against the counter, look over the offerings to decide what you’ll have.

“So how are things at the ACLU?” he asks with a bit of a teasing tone. You’re well aware of the fact that he thinks you could be doing more—translation: making more—in private practice, or working for the government like he does, but neither of those things interest you and he is well aware of that.

“They’re really good, actually. We’re working on a disability rights case now that will probably make national news if we win.” It’s been forever since you had penne arrabbiata, since it’s not very easy to eat at your desk without running the risk of staining your blouse with spicy red sauce, so you load up your plate with it, add wilted spinach for color, a piece of garlic bread because it’s garlic bread. You lick your thumb, and your dad points a finger in your direction in that way that means he’s about to give you life advice.

“When you win; if you’re not confident about your capabilities, no one else will be.” You roll your eyes good-naturedly, nod, because that’s a pro tip you’ve heard time and time again. “If you came to work at the bureau, you’d win more of your cases; Constitutional law isn’t easy.” He says that like you don’t already know, like you haven’t been working in your current department for more than a year. You sigh.

“I’m not really the bureau type, dad.” You take your plate over to the breakfast table, sit down and start to pick at your food. Arguing about your chosen career path is enough to make you lose your appetite, even for your favorite dish. Your dad follows, sits across from you.

“You’re so smart, honey, you could be if you wanted to.” He takes a bite of fettuccine alfredo, points his fork at you. “Hey, maybe you could talk to Jim from the Office of General Counsel tonight—or maybe Aaron. You’d be really interested in the work his team does.”

“Who’s Aaron again?” You don’t recognize the name, so he’s probably not one of the attorneys on your dad’s team, but he works closely with so many departments you might have heard it before and missed it.

“Friend from work. He’s the unit chief at the Behavioral Analysis Unit. They’re criminal psychologists or something. Profilers,” he says, snapping his fingers. “That’s what they call them. They get into criminals’ heads, analyze them and interrogate them. I know you minored in psychology, I bet he could get you an internship.” You laugh at that, because he always gives you advice about furthering your career, but that’s a step backward for you and he can't be so dense not to realize it.

“An internship? I’m a little old for that, don't you think? Not to mention I have a job that I love.” You stab at your food, more than a little agitated by the current conversation.

“Never too late to get your foot in the door, sweetie. It’d be great to see you more, that’s all I’m saying,” he adds, ending on a gentler note, and you sigh. Your mom does it too, but your dad is an expert into guilting you into doing what he thinks is best. Unfortunately, you’ve never handled guilt very well.

“Okay. I’ll talk to him, if it means that much to you,” you promise, and you both smile and make easy small talk for the rest of the meal. The dress your mom bought for you for the party is a black, sleeveless, designer cocktail dress, something more form fitting than you would normally wear—she is evidently trying very hard to find you an eligible bachelor tonight. You pair it with your favorite jewelry, simple heels, and when you head downstairs your mom acts like it’s prom night all over again.

“Oh sweetie, you look so beautiful!” She puts her hands on your arms, spins you around. “You’re looking too thin—must be eating a lot of salads on that paralegal salary,” she throws over her shoulder to your dad, and they both laugh. You wish life were a documentary so there was a camera you could look into with an unimpressed expression.

“I’m a staff attorney actually. Fully accredited,” you add, but it’s no use. If you don’t follow in your dad’s footsteps, you will always be seen as living beneath your potential, and therefore always the butt of these types of jokes.

You love them, really, and you know they love you, but they are not the most supportive pair by a long shot. They made sure you got into a great college, let you follow your law school dreams—and you’re grateful, won’t deny their money is a privilege so many other people in your position do not possess—but that was only because those were their dreams as well. As soon as you told them about taking the position at the ACLU, it was like the tables were turned, and instead of your accomplishments, all they saw was wasted potential.

It’s enough to keep you away most of the time, which sucks, but it is what it is. It’s easier to love them from afar, so that’s what you do.

At the party, you shake hands, talk about the weather, introduce yourself to so many middle aged white guys and their sons that their faces all start to blur together. After half an hour you excuse yourself, head to the bar for a drink, and come to stand next to a middle aged white guy you have not introduced yourself to—this one, you’d have remembered, because he is tall, broad, serious looking, and very handsome.

If you were a dog, he’d have your ears perking up, no doubt about that. Instead, your heart just races a little.

“I have to say, these FBI parties are even less fun than I thought they’d be,” you comment as you wait for your drink. The man lifts the corner of his mouth in a slight smile.

“Get a bunch of men who are past their prime in one room, and all you hear about are the glory days. Can’t get a word in edgewise.” The bartender hands you your glass, and you turn to fully face the stranger.

“Why aren’t you talking about your glory days?” You immediately kind of want to slap yourself. Your social skills have been exhausted tonight, apparently. “I’m sorry, that was rude; I didn’t mean to insinuate that you’re… past your prime.” You give him a brief once over, because he deserves it, is even more gorgeous up close than you’d initially assessed; he chuckles softly, sips on his own drink.

“It wasn’t rude, it was… shrewd.” His own gaze lingers on your face, maybe the neckline of your dress, just a little. “Your father’s really happy you’re here, wouldn’t stop talking about it.”

“Yeah, he's one of the most ambitious people I know; he gets an idea in his head and won’t rest until he’s seen it through.” It’s a quality that sounds good on paper, but when it’s constantly being applied to your life, it’s more tiring than anything. “Right now he’s trying to get me to bully one of these poor guys into giving me an internship, as if I’m not twenty-nine years old with a career of my own.” He wets his lips, laughs again.

“I think I’m the poor guy—Aaron Hotchner. I’m the unit chief overseeing the BAU.” Wow, 0 for 2. This guy’s got to think you’re a complete idiot. He extends a hand and you shake it firmly, melt a little because his palm is so broad, his fingers so thick.

“Right, I’m so sorry. Feel free to tell me right now that I’m not the right fit, and I’ll slink off and hide in a corner somewhere for the rest of the night.”

“No need for that. You strike me as someone who would be a great fit for my team, if that was something you actually wanted.”

You aren’t looking for a career change in the slightest, but you can’t deny it would be tempting to report to this man every day.

“It’s not that I’m not curious about what you do; my dad told me a little, and it sounds really intriguing. I just have a lot on my plate right now. If the offer had come up before I started my current job, I would be all over it.” You smile, shrug. “Unless you could have me intern for the next two weeks I’ll be on vacation, I’ll have to politely decline the offer you haven't actually made me.” You smile, and so does he.

“Now who’s ambitious?” he asks with a raised eyebrow; the way he says it, like he finds it charming, makes your face heat a little. You’ve never connected like this at one of your dad’s FBI events, and even though there’s no way it ends well—if anything even starts—you feel the need to see how far you can go. Even if it’s just a little flirting. Even if it’s just tonight.

“Have you ever been here before tonight?” you ask after a beat. You take a sip of your drink, and he mirrors you. You lean in a little closer.

“Once, briefly. I didn’t get a grand tour, or anything.” You smile—bingo—and reach out to place a hand on his arm.

“Oh, I’d be happy to give you one, if you like. Usually my dad is all about it, but he looks occupied.” You both glance across the room at where he is in the middle of a group of men—still discussing their glory days, no doubt—and Aaron looks at you again, nods.

“Sure, I’d love one.” You show him around downstairs, the backyard, the garage—he doesn’t seem to care about the cars at all—and then go upstairs, show him guest rooms, the master bath your mother recently remodeled; he gets a little closer as you go, and you smile more, flirt a bit. You stop outside the door to your room, block it with your body while you talk about the art hanging in the hall; he’s very good at reading your body language, apparently, because he leans closer to you, puts his hand on the doorknob next to your hip.

“What’s this room?” he asks, feigning innocence, and you put your arm over his.

“Oh, no, we’re not going in there. That’s my old bedroom.” He smiles, and you grimace.

“You mean the room I most want to see now? Come on.” He turns the knob, hears it click, and you cover your face with your hand, sigh.

“This is going to be really embarrassing. It’s exactly the way it looked when I went to college, and that was over ten years ago.” You push the door open with your hand, walk in and flick on the light. Aaron follows, chuckles.

“It’s... purple. Cute.” He makes toward the bed, touches one of the frills on the comforter with his big, broad hand. The juxtaposition of your innocent lavender bedding being stroked by the fingers you can’t stop staring at is a very interesting one.

“No, it’s not cute, it’s horrifying,” you say, and when he walks toward the open closet, you begin to regret this little tour. He pulls out your prom dress, your cheerleading uniform.

“Cheerleader, huh? You don’t seem the type.” He looks over at you, and you push it back into the closet, lead him away from it with your hands on his arms.

“I’m not. It was important to my mom.” The two of you are by your dresser now, and he leans in to look in the mirror, at you standing behind him and not his own reflection.

“I see. Do you always put other people's needs before your own?” You sidle up next to him, and he turns to face you.

“This is what you do, right? You… deduce for a living? Like Sherlock?” That makes him laugh, which in turn makes you smile.

“It’s called profiling, but that’s accurate enough.” You feel a challenge brewing inside you, take a step closer to him.

“Okay… What can you tell me about myself by looking around the room? Remember, this stuff is from ten years ago; a lot could have changed.” He crosses his arms, nods.

“You’re right, but your core values wouldn’t have.”

Slowly, he walks around the room, taking things in, touching things, looking back at you briefly and then rifling through parts of your past. It’s a few minutes before he speaks again.

“I think your father wants you to work at the bureau, and you don’t want to because you’ve always felt like you’d live in his shadow if you followed the same career path. You want to blaze your own trail, do what fulfills you, not let his last name be what moves you up the ladder.”

That’s all scarily true, so you nod, cross your arms, lean your butt against your desk.

“I think you’re afraid of commitment because you don’t think any relationship you’re in will ever measure up to what your parents have.” That stings a little, but he’s not wrong. He points to a flyer stuck to a cork board, something about a charity project you’d worked on that revolved around recycling. “Environmentally conscious: I bet you drive a hybrid, and if your dad bought it for you, it’s a... BMW.”

He glances back, and you encourage him to go on. He points to a copy of your Georgetown diploma hanging on the wall, then picks up a cheerleading trophy on your dresser.

“You were a cheerleader to please your mom, went to Georgetown to please your dad, excelled at both; you’re an only child, so you felt you couldn’t let them down. My question is,” he says, looking up at you curiously, “what pleases you?” The words make your heart beat fast; you lick your lips, tilt your head.

“Not much.” He comes closer, arms crossed again.

“Why?” God, that’s a loaded question for a Friday night, for the first day of your vacation. You absently wonder if he’s going to bill you for this impromptu therapy session.

“I find it difficult to ask for what I want,” you ultimately say, and he moves even closer. His stare is probing, and you speculate that he may have been a lawyer before the FBI. The look on his face is the same one you’ve seen in many courtrooms over your short career.

“Of course you do. You’ve never done it before. You've spent your whole life asking other people what they want from you.”

You feel very seen, and you kind of hate it, but you also kind of like it—that he’s able to dissect you like this is a huge turn on. What that says about you, you’re not entirely sure; maybe that you enjoy being seen for who you are—for all that you are—instead of who you know, or who you could have been, for a change.

“I think you didn’t lose your virginity until college—your second year.” It feels like bringing that up is a bold move for him; he doesn’t meet your eyes when he says it. “I would guess you got drunk for the first time around then, too. Your first year you were trying to navigate the feeling of not being under anyone’s thumb anymore; your second year, you finally felt like your own woman, you wanted to try new things, but it made you feel out of control and you don’t like that. Even now you only drink socially, never to get drunk.” He is directly in front of you now, and he reaches out a hand, brushes it over your cheek. “I also think you gravitate toward men you find inappropriate and unattainable so you don’t have to worry about being the reason your relationships fail.”

He looks into your eyes with a questioning gaze. It’s a painfully accurate take, but he softens the blow with the gentle touch.

“Wow, you’re kind of an asshole,” you breathe, but you smile, and he laughs low.

“Maybe. But am I wrong?” You nod your head, and his face falls a little, so you narrow your eyes to mess with him a bit.

“Only about one thing: I actually drive a Kia hybrid. And I bought it myself, for your information.” He smiles, and you press your hands against his chest; it’s crazy how quickly he drops back into the serious expression you first saw him wearing by the bar. “Are you unattainable and inappropriate?”

“I work with your father; we’re the same age. We play golf together sometimes.” He doesn’t seem uncomfortable, doesn’t back away or remove your hands. You slide them down his body, over his stomach, stop at his belt, and he looks the way you feel: tightly wound, aroused, a little breathless.

“That doesn’t really answer my question, Aaron. May I do some profiling of my own?” You look up at him, curious, and he nods.

“Be my guest,” he murmurs, and you lean back. You rake your eyes over his body slowly—there’s no mistaking your appraisal for what it is. “No ring on your finger, but there’s no way you haven’t been married before. My guess is you’re divorced, and it wasn’t your idea.” You look up at his face, smile softly. “Sorry. You weren’t exactly pulling punches either.” He huffs a laugh.

“You’re right: I wasn’t pulling punches. You’re right about the divorce, too. Go on.” You nod, hum.

“Okay. You have a strong moral compass; you always do what’s right, even when it’s difficult. It’s what makes you such a great leader for your team. You like to go by the book, you’re a Fed through and through—but when it comes down to the bureau or the people you care about, you’ll fight the establishment with all you have. You aren’t a blind believer in the government; you have your criticisms, and you aren’t shy about voicing them.”

“Unlike your father,” he says, and you sigh. “You don’t have an appreciation for his work.”

“No, I really don’t.” Your dad specializes in Freedom of Information Act litigation—he does his best to keep the FBI from actually living up to its commitment to be transparent with the American people, and it doesn’t sit right with you, never has. You may both be attorneys, but you could not be more different if you tried. “But I’m profiling you, remember?”

“Right. Please continue.”

“This might be going out on a limb, but I think you went to law school. The way you speak, and the way you looked at me earlier? It was a little like cross-examination. Am I right about that?” His answering smile actually looks pleased.

“You are. I was a prosecutor for a number of years before joining the FBI. I think it’s something you don’t ever really lose.”

“For better or worse,” you say with a smile of your own. Happy with your assessment, you move a little closer again. “One more thing. I don’t think you’re the kind of man who would normally let a woman take you into her bedroom after less than an hour of knowing her. Childhood or otherwise.” You smooth your hands down either side of his tie, over his firm chest and solid midsection. “Maybe you saw something in me you liked?”

“I was... dreading coming here tonight.” He brings his hands up to cover yours, but doesn’t pull them away, just holds them. “If you’ve been to one of these parties, you’ve been to them all—no offense to your father—and I was contemplating a good excuse to leave early, if I’m being honest. Then you showed up at my side—my friend’s mysterious daughter that I’ve heard so much about—and you’re funny, and charming. Insightful. Vulnerable.” He squeezes your hands, presses them closer to his chest. “Beautiful. It’s been a long time since I’ve looked at someone and felt an instant connection. Do you feel it?” His voice is just above a whisper, and you nod lightly.

You aren’t the type of woman to take a man into her bedroom after less than an hour of knowing him, childhood or otherwise, but he makes you want so badly you’re almost ravenous—you’ve felt this way before, maybe twice in your life, but neither of those experiences ended with you getting what you wanted. You really hope this time might be different.

“Kiss me?” He takes a breath and then presses his lips together.

“I shouldn’t.”

“I know. But will you?” After a beat, he does, leaning in and pressing his lips to yours, moving his hands to your face as he deepens it.

It’s not a hard kiss, but rough around the edges, your noses pressed together, mouths seeking contact even as you pull apart for breath. He kisses like he needs it, tastes like bourbon, feels like heaven; it’s steamy, wet, makes your chest heave and your pussy throb. When he walks you backward, gently presses your body against your desk, you hop up onto it easily and pull him closer, between your spread knees.

“Aaron,” you sigh over his lips, and his hands move to your thighs, pushing up your dress so he can get closer to you. You glide your fingers through his hair, plant a hand on the desk, then feel something tip over, hear the soft sound of paper sliding over the edge.

Aaron looks down, picks up a lavender envelope; he holds it up with a question in his eye and an enamored look on his face.

“‘From the desk of…’ You had personalized stationery at eighteen?” His mouth is a little red from the kiss still, and he’s teasing you, perfect; you smile, can’t believe this is happening.

“I liked to write to my congressman… and Ruth Bader Ginsburg,” you pant. He chuckles, kisses you a little softer than before, then moves down your throat, sweeps his tongue over your pulse. “Mmm. Right there.”

He pauses to look up at you, hair mussed from your fingers, and you push his jacket off his shoulders; he shifts to full height, helps you take it off, and you drape it over your desk chair, work the knot of his tie loose.

“Are you sure you want this?” he asks as your fingers slip down the front of his shirt, freeing his buttons. You unclasp his belt, open his pants, and stretch up for a kiss, touching his face; you nod when you pull back.

“Absolutely. Are you?” He nods too, all serious eyebrows you want to kiss, mouth you want back on yours, on your throat, anywhere.

“Absolutely.” You step down off the desk, run your hands over his arms, then kick off your shoes and walk over to the door, close and lock it; when you pass him again, you guide him to the bed and sit in his lap, clutch at his shoulders and kiss him with as much desperation as he showed you before. There’s a lot of heavy breathing, sighing, moans from you both, and if just kissing is this good, you can’t imagine what he’ll be like inside of you.

When you can find it in yourself to stop kissing him, you pull back and climb out of his lap, present the back of your dress so he can ease down the zipper. He pushes it off, large, warm hands gliding over your body until it hits the floor in a heap unbecoming of the designer label. Your mother would lose her mind.

“You are incredibly beautiful,” Aaron says as he moves his hands to your hips, sliding your panties down and leaning in to press his lips to your stomach. You sigh, press a hand to the back of his head while his mouth explores you where you’re soft and sensitive. You’d like it lower, but there may not be time for that tonight. “What do you want with an old man like me?”

“None of that.” You sweep your hands over his shoulders, sink down onto his lap again, and his hands fall to your bare hips, squeezing you softly; you close your eyes for a moment, so overwhelmed by just the simplest touch. “Like you said: I feel a connection.” Your fingers move to push his shirt open, to lift his undershirt so you can get your hands on bare skin and soft body and hair. He groans, and you kiss him, deep and slow, hands moving to take off both shirts and add them to his jacket on your chair. You take a deep breath, reach out to touch his cheek. “Connect with me.”

He takes your hand, brings your palm to his mouth and kisses it, then drags it down so your fingers slide over his lips; you swallow hard, can feel wetness pooling between your legs, so you slide off of him and onto the bed—however sexy it may be to leave your mark on him, you do both have to return to the party at some point.

Sitting up beside him, you touch his body, ease his pants and boxers down; he takes them off along with his shoes, and you pull the comforter out from under you, push it to the side, let yourself lay back and bask in the look and feel of him as he settles between your knees, leans in for a kiss.

It’s even more intense than before, somehow, his thighs against yours, strong arms supporting him, and you drag your nails lightly up his body, tip your head back and sigh when his lips trail from the base of your throat to your jaw.

He moves a hand low, rubs his fingers between your lips and presses one finger inside you, slowly glides it in and out so you’re moaning, sighing his name.

“That feels so good,” you breathe, and he moves his mouth to yours again, soft and wet, the slide of his tongue sinfully delicious. He adds a second finger, earns more gasping moans, then a third; with the help of a capable thumb stroking over your clit, you come, and he kisses the praise right out of your mouth and then pushes inside you.

His mouth doesn’t leave yours, keeps you close as he thrusts inside, gradually lowering his weight onto you until you feel him everywhere: chest soft against yours, stomachs pressing together as you both work your hips, as your hands grasp his back to keep him close, heavy. Connected.

“You’re perfect. You feel incredible, baby,” he speaks against your lips in a rare moment apart, and you hitch your knees up higher, press the heels of your feet against his ass.

You thought he looked turned on before, but now he looks like he��s being consumed by it, like he wants to thrust deeper into you, make a home in your body and never leave; you would be more than okay with that, to spend the next two weeks beneath him, holding him close, sharing breath and sweat and pleasure so complete it changes you profoundly.

He moves a hand behind your head, cradles it, and sucks wet kisses against your throat—nothing so deep as to leave a mark, but that doesn’t mean you’re not panting, whimpering, begging for more.

“Aaron. Hmm, oh. You’re so gorgeous, I—everything about you.” He pulls away from your neck, peers down at you, and you’re sure you’re a sight to behold in your desperation; your palms smooth down his back, to his sides, and you hug him close, squeeze him hard when he comes, panting your name against your throat and pumping roughly inside.

You meet his every thrust, dig your nails into his hips, and he leans forward, covers your mouth with his and grinds against you until your second blissful orgasm shudders through your limbs. You clench tight around him, moan, then slowly sag back against the mattress, more thoroughly satisfied than you’ve ever been in your life.

He shifts, half on top of you and half off, his kisses gradually slowing, his hands sweeping over your shoulders, your face, your arms. When you’re calm, content, you sigh, kiss his hands and cheeks and lips; you’re warm, and you curl around him, overheated skin on skin, and never want to leave.

“Mmm,” he rumbles against your shoulder, mouthing at it, and you sigh, scrape your nails through his hair.

“Mm hmm. Think I can die happy now,” you murmur, and he shifts up to look at you, a smile curving softly from the corner of his mouth.

“Don’t die on me, now.” You smile too, scoot closer for slow kisses. You’re both happy to lay there, quietly kissing, but eventually it’s clear you need to return to the party in order to avoid suspicion—not that you think anyone would ever guess what just occurred.

You dress side by side, turning to have him fix your zipper, reaching up to help him with his tie. When you’re both technically decent enough to head downstairs, you plan to give him a head start, but the two of you get caught up in one more deeply sensual kiss that almost makes you want to just say screw it and take his clothes off again. He can tell, has the barest hint of a smirk on his face when the kiss breaks, and he punctuates it with a soft press of lips before walking out the door.

With your spare few minutes, you look around the room—and at your rumpled, frilly, lavender bed, on which you just had super hot sex with one of your dad’s friends, it’s still kind of sinking in—and wonder what the rest of your vacation could possibly bring that could top this night. At breakfast the next morning, you find out.

You and your parents are discussing the party, who got too drunk to function, who left with the wrong wife, which of your dad’s friend’s sons you got along with most, and then he drops the bomb on you.

“And see, honey, I told you talking to Aaron would be beneficial.” You choke on a bite of scrambled eggs, try to wash it down with a sip of juice; your mom pats you on the back until the moment passes.

“What?” you ask, voice barely a squeak. You clear your throat and try again. “What about Aaron, dad?” He flips the newspaper he’s holding to the next page and peers over it at you.

“I told you talking to Aaron would be beneficial. Before he left last night, he told me all about the internship—it’s nice of him to set it up for the two weeks you’re here, so you can get some experience under your belt.” You briefly think about your experience under Aaron’s belt, but it’s really not the time.

He really set you up with an internship—one he knows you aren’t interested in—based on the offhand comment you’d made about squeezing it into your two week vacation. You’d be kind of irritated at him for making the plans on your behalf, but if it means the next two weeks are anything like last night, he’s going to make it well worth your while.

The internship excites both of your parents, and your mom declares it a girls day, takes you out for some new clothes, since you didn’t bring any workwear, for a manicure and pedicure and then drinks. She talks about what a great opportunity this will be for you, and you don’t have the heart—or maybe you just don’t care anymore—to argue about what great opportunities you’ve already made possible for yourself.

Sunday is for relaxing, and not internally panicking about seeing Aaron again. Friday night was incredible, but you didn’t think it would turn into anything, considering he is your dad’s friend, and you’re only here for a couple weeks.

You have to hand it to him, though: if he enjoyed himself as much as you did, and this internship is his way of getting to spend more time with you, he has managed to do what you haven’t been able for twenty-nine years—find a way to please your parents while finally pleasing yourself. Monday morning, you show up at the BAU office to receive a photo ID badge and fill out some paperwork. You don’t actually get to meet anyone from the BAU until after lunch, and when you do, Aaron is nowhere to be seen.

“Hi, I’m looking for Unit Chief Hotchner?” you say to a fair-skinned woman with long blonde hair and a kind smile. “I’m interning for the next couple weeks.” There is a man with her, Black, tall, bald, with very expressive eyebrows; the eyebrows don’t look like they think very highly of you.

“You’re an intern? A little old, aren’t you?” After a beat, his face breaks into a smile, and you roll your eyes, huff a laugh.

“Charmer. Yes, I’m definitely too old to be an intern; do you have overbearing parents by chance?” He raises his hands, palms up, and takes a step back.

“No, but enough said.” The blonde woman laughs, and he nods in your direction. “I’m Derek Morgan, this is JJ Jareau. Come with me, I’ll take you to Hotch.”

You thank him, follow as he leads you across the room and up some stairs.

“So what’s he like, Agent Hotchner?” you ask, wanting someone else’s opinion of Aaron as a boss, a coworker—anything other than the one night stand that wasn’t. You really know so little about him.

“He’s a good guy; smart, fair, great at what he does. A little tightly wound; could stand to live a little.” He looks back at you with a grin. “He’ll probably remind you a little of your dad.”

God. It almost makes you throw up in your mouth a little.

“You know, I doubt it, but thanks for the warning.” He knocks on a closed door at the end of the hall, and a moment later, Aaron answers it. His expression doesn’t change as Derek introduces you, and when he walks away with a friendly pat on your shoulder, Aaron gestures you in. He closes the door behind you and looks carefully over your face.

“Hi,” he says, and you see that hint of a smirk on his face again. You take a moment to appraise the room—there’s a window with blinds that are closed, a desk and chairs, bookcases, a printer, more windows on the far side, a loveseat. You look back at Aaron with a raised brow.

“Hi. What am I doing here?” His expression gets serious, like he can’t tell if you’re pleased or upset with him for the surprise. You sit down on the loveseat, set your bag down, and he sits down next to you.

“I know you wanted to get your father off your back, and you did say if I could squeeze an internship into two weeks that you’d be interested.” You smile a little, because you did say that. “I thought it might be nice to see you a little more, too. You’re under no obligation to stay,” he assures you, briefly looking down, and then he takes your hand. “But surely there are worse ways to spend your vacation?”

You give him an uncertain look, like you’re really trying to decide what you’d like to do, and then you push up your skirt and swiftly straddle his thighs, press your hands against his shoulders. His mouth falls open a little, and you lean in to catch it with yours.

“I have been thinking about you all weekend,” he mutters into the kiss, wraps his arms around your back. “Have you thought about me?”

“Only every night.” He groans at your words, lets his head fall back a little, and you press your lips to the column of his throat, nip softly with your teeth. “Every morning. Every minute.” You bite at the shell of his ear, kiss it, card your fingers through his hair. “Do I have an actual job to do here?” You pull back, and he raises his eyebrows; you can’t help the grin that takes over your expression. “Because if not, I’m going to focus on making this the best two weeks of your life.”

He pulls you in for another kiss, a little rougher than before, deeper, and you tug on his hair, pant against his cheek when you separate.

“In that case, no. You don’t have a job to do here.” You tilt your head, and he smiles a little. “I'm the boss, I make the rules.” That kind of thing has never done it for you before, but you have to admit it’s making you feel some type of way right now. You sweep your hands inside his jacket, squeeze his sides.

“Mmm, yes you do. Hey, do you think there’s enough room for me to fit under your desk?” He wets his lips, and you climb off of him, walk around to check it out for yourself, bending over his desk in your tight black skirt to peek beneath it. You look up to see Aaron is not shy about taking in the view, and you grin. “Spacious.”

He walks toward you, and when he’s closer, his eyes look dark with need; his hands look like they ache to reach out and touch. You step forward, let yourself be caged in against the desk by his arms, and you arch your back a little, open his belt slowly.

“I didn’t set this up so you would feel obligated to do this.” You sigh, lean up to catch his lips in a soft kiss.

“I know you didn’t. But if I want to?” You tug down his zipper, slip your hand inside his underwear, feel him hot and stiff in your palm. “And you want to?” He nods tightly and you kiss him again, squeeze him softly, sweep your tongue between his lips. “Then let’s.”

You take a step back, push his chair far enough out of the way that you can crawl under the desk, come up on your knees; he exhales deeply, then sinks down into his chair, stretches his long legs so they rest on either side of your body, holds his pants open for you. You look up at him, hope he sees how ridiculously eager you are to do this, and you take his dick out, stroke it a couple times, and cover it with your mouth.

“My god,” he sighs, head resting back against his seat. You hold him with both hands, suck deep and wet, moan a little when he spreads his legs further apart. “Your mouth feels so good, baby. Does this make you wet?” You pull off, move one hand to slide up his stomach, clutch his shirt there.

“Very, but I’m patient. Want to make you come.” He wets his lips, sighs, and you dip your head, lick up the length of him before sucking him back down.

He is all perfect, desperate noises, soft grunts and moans, gently palming your head as he gets closer, and you’re pretty sure he’s about to get off when there’s a knock at the door. He mutters a curse, and you squeeze his stomach, determined to make him come in the next five seconds. He looks like he’s going to lose his mind.

“Just a minute,” he manages, his voice strained, and he puts his hands on your arms, but you stroke and suck him quickly, actually sigh in relief when he spills in your mouth; your only regret is that he couldn’t be louder.

As soon as he’s through coming, you duck under the desk to wipe your mouth, and he hurries to fix his fly, to close his belt. There’s another knock, and he exhales, calls for whoever is on the other side to come in.

He accidentally bangs his knee off the desk, winces, and you lean back against it, panting, your heart racing.

“Aaron!”

Your eyes snap closed. What are the actual chances of this? You don’t know enough about karma to have an opinion on it, but you come to the sudden realization that you must have done something wrong in a past life.

“Hey, what are you doing in our neck of the woods?” Aaron asks, managing to sound like he is in fact not talking to the father of the woman who just swallowed his come.

“Looking for my little girl, of course. Had to see what she was getting up to on her first day at the FBI.”

“She’s actually… downstairs. In the mailroom. Interns start at the bottom and work their way up.” You stifle a laugh, because despite your compromising position, that’s kind of funny.

“Oh, okay. Agent Morgan thought she was up here, but I guess she must have snuck by him. Would you tell her I stopped by?”

“Absolutely. She’ll be happy to hear it,” he says, and you think you might be out of the woods, but you hear your dad’s voice again.

“Hey I almost forgot to mention: Monday Night Football tonight, got a bunch of guys coming over to watch the game. You interested?”

“You know, that would be great. You can text me the details. Thanks for the invitation.”

“Sure, of course. I really appreciate you taking care of my girl.” You have to bite your lip this time, and Aaron taps his foot against your hip.

“It’s my pleasure. She’s really wonderful. You should be proud.”

“I am. I’ll text you the details,” he says, and then the door closes and Aaron pulls back, looks down at you beneath the desk. You kind of just stare at each other for a minute.

“Close call?” you say with a shrug, and he helps you to your feet, then lifts you up and sets your ass on the edge of his desk. He grabs your face for a messy kiss, and you cling to him, breathless when he pulls back.

“What does it say about me that I’m turned on again?” he asks, and you shake your head, pull him close for another kiss.

“I don’t know, but I’m really turned on, too. Can you—” That’s as far as you get before he strides over to the door, flips the lock, and comes back to push your skirt up, tug your panties down to your knees so quickly it makes you gasp. He gets on his knees slowly, looks up at your face, and puts his hands on your hips, takes a few deep, thorough licks of your pussy. “Oh, my god.” You put your hand on the back of his head, drop your ass harder against the desk and press your other palm against it for support.

He is as enthusiastic as you were for him, slipping his tongue between your lips, gliding rhythmically over your opening but not pressing in, the tease. It feels insanely good, so much but not quite enough.

“Aaron. Oh, mmm—please. Please.” You sigh, dig your fingers into his hair, and he puts his hands under your ass and tilts you back on the desk, dives lower to start thrusting inside you with his tongue. “Yes, yeah, right there,” you murmur, and you rock your hips a little; your hand slips, sending you further back on the desk so that you’re almost laying back on it, and it makes you feel so deliciously dirty that you groan, grab at the collar of his jacket at the back of his neck.

“You okay?” he asks, pulling back to look up at you, and you nod, frantic; he licks his lips, lifts your legs and puts them over his shoulders, then dips down to stroke his tongue inside you, to press a finger inside alongside it.

“Holy—oh, yes.” You toss your head back, whine, and come around his finger while his tongue flicks in and out until you’re left breathless, spent.

You press yourself up to sitting, and Aaron stands, kisses you deeply, hands on your face while you’re still slick on his tongue. After a couple of minutes, he helps you get cleaned and straightened up, his kisses soft presses of lips this time.

“I should try to get some work done,” he says, but he doesn’t sound like he wants to; after that, you can’t really blame him.

“That’s okay; I brought my laptop, so I can work on some stuff too, if you don’t mind.” He doesn’t of course, and you get set up at the other end of his desk. You’re both plugging away at your work when you’re reminded of something from earlier; you close the lid of your computer and look over at Aaron, head tilted. “I didn’t take you for someone who likes football.” He smiles, taps his pen against his chin.

“I don’t. But I figured you’ll be there.” You smile back.

“Yeah, I’ll be there. Maybe I’ll see if my old cheerleading uniform still fits—you know, just to go with the theme.” You open your computer back up, but the look on Aaron’s face out of the corner of your eye is very, very promising. “Mmh, that feels good,” you murmur, one hand on Aaron’s shoulder and the other on his thigh; he is propped up against your pillows, massaging your bare breast and your clit while you roll your hips in his lap. Your cheerleading skirt fits, mostly, but you couldn’t zip it all the way; still, it’s the only thing you’re wearing, and you can’t deny the whole situation is so hot it hurts.

“You feel so incredible. Taking me so well.” He can’t kiss you in this position, and you can tell he wants to—you really want him to—so you feel a little like a tease as you work your ass and thighs atop him. “You know you’re beautiful, but I can’t stop saying it. You’re perfect, baby—in this little skirt?” He moves the hand from your breast to your hip under the skirt, squeezes you there. “So sexy. Do you remember any cheers for me?”

You groan, roll your eyes.

“Not worth the orgasm to embarrass myself,” you say, and he lifts his hips, slams up into you hard. “Mmh. Okay, almost worth the orgasm, but not going to do it.” He lifts an eyebrow, pumps his hips up again.

“Really? Not even if I…” He lunges forward, lifting you out of his lap and making you laugh, then maneuvers you onto your stomach, gets on his knees behind you, flips up the skirt.

“God, Aaron,” you sigh, and he presses his thighs right up against your ass, slides inside, pumps slow and steady while squeezing your cheeks, pulling you back toward him. Your fingers dig into the stupid, frilly bedspread, which will probably turn you on for the rest of your life, now, and you move back against his thrusts, moan.

“Worth it now?” he asks, filling you so completely, and you pant, hum.

“Wouldn’t you rather I just moan your name?” He leans forward at that, hands planted up under your arms, and leans in to speak into your ear; the way he’s pressed against you, the angle is perfect, and you’re right on the edge when his lips brush your throat.

“Yeah, why don’t you do that instead.” It takes about two seconds for you to come, and you aren’t shy about it, let his name fall from your lips in an endless string of praise. He hammers against your ass, the roughest he’s been—and god, does it feel good—then comes inside you murmuring your name.

He pulls out, rolls you over, and you finally kiss, make it count; it’s like the first night, how you can’t get enough of each other, messy, desperate, curling tongues and soft, eager lips, but you know you can’t keep it up forever, because his presence downstairs will be missed much sooner than Friday’s party.

You help him get dressed—in jeans and a blue polo, maybe the only time in your life a polo has made you wet—and then throw on a t-shirt and jeans of your own, head downstairs. You detour for the kitchen to grab a couple beers while he heads into the living room, and then you plop down next to him on the couch and hand him one like you weren’t just defiling your childhood bedroom yet again.

“There you are,” your dad says when he registers your presence—it’s impossible to get him to look away from the tv when a good game is on. “So how was your first day at the office? Think you’re going to like it there?”

“Yeah, I don’t know why I was resistant for so long.” You shift, put your leg under your butt, and take a sip of your beer. “It’s not going to be a career for me, but I have a really good feeling about the next two weeks.”

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#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fanfic #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x female reader #hotch x female reader #hotch x reader #ask answered #anon #prompt

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leviiattacks · 3 years

Note

CASHIER LEVI AND LIKE THE READER IS THE CUSTOMER AND IT’S LIKE THEY HAVE A CRUSH ON EACHTOHER

author note :: honestly not my best at all..... like at all..... this was actually pretty good but the entire draft got deleted and i just lost all my effort but i felt bad for starting it and not completing it for anon so you may take whatever i have managed to salvage. i hope u enjoy it :’( i am extremely sick rn and yeah writing is the only break i am currently getting from anything :-) SO AGAIN I’ M SORRY ANON..... i may write a 10k + word fic on this though so i can redeem myself bc this is just disappointing 😭

word count :: 3.3k

every single thursday you stop by ackermart. maybe it’s because the day is convenient for you or perhaps it’s because of a certain cashier that works the evenings...

HAHA it’s got nothing to do with a cashier why would it have anything to do with a cashier? :-)

today is like any other. you walk through the fresh produce aisle then proceed to make your way towards the bakery section picking up a loaf of bread

it’s stupid, you know it is but... you think you’ve worked up enough courage to speak to him today!!

and who is him you may ask?

levi at till number four. his tired eyes always happen to pierce into yours and his calloused thumbs brush past your skin when you hand him your rewards card

levi is what his bright red name tag says and although he doesn’t look like a levi you’d like to think your crush isn’t stealing someone’s identity so you believe that it’s his real name

anxiously fiddling with your basket you’re beginning to think this was a horrible idea

the girl ahead of you is flirting up a storm with him and although he’s not reciprocating it by any means you still feel deterred

levi bags the last of her groceries and looks up at her when she asks for a way to contact him. he doesn’t look mad... just bored?

“ma’am. this is an ackermart i don’t think it’s appropriate you ask me for my number. the customer service line is listed on our website.”

the woman raises a brow looking completely flabbergasted. okay, if everything before this wasn’t a warning THIS sure was

she stomps off when she realises levi isn’t kidding and you think you’d feel bad for her maybe if she was more respectful about it

“next customer.” levi calls over his shoulder and you shuffle forward pretending to be engrossed in your phone

“cash or card?” he asks plainly.

you hear the BEEP of your groceries being scanned and think on it for a while before replying with “cash”

you’re clearly pretty good at your pretend to be totally into your phone act because levi tries to get your attention but you don’t hear what he has to say till the third time he repeats himself

but even then you’re still unsure what it is he’s said????

looking down you see his hand is stuck out in front of you and now you’re even more confused

faltering for a second you look at his palm and then speak

“um, i guess your hand is nice? it’s pretty big compared to the rest of you actually.”

“i was asking for your cash?” he says and now you look at his palms in mortification

gasping you yANK your hand into your purse as you laugh awkwardly fishing around to find your money

“oh, OH i knew that. just kidding!! i mean- i meant that thing about your hand?? but i thought it was- i funny? yes the joke funny? i’m-”

he leans back into his spinning chair and sighs contently. “you’re not making much sense peaches.”

“pe- peaches??” you repeat. no way you’ve heard that correct

levi lazily points at the abundance of the aforementioned fruit in your grocery bags

“you must love em.”

“i, well yeah i do like peaches but i also like...” um??? what food would make you look sophisticated and professional?

OH YEAH

“FRENCH CUISINE :-)!!!!” you say rather proudly

“...cool. i guess.” levi hands you your grocery bag which is basically an invitation asking for you to get out

he doesn’t seem mad but he’s definitely going to look back at this encounter and laugh his ass off at how stupid you are

hanging your head down low in embarrassment you make your way out towards your car

there’s always next time!! maybe you can practice in the mirror yeah that does sound like it would help!!!

okay so.

it is officially next time.

actually you never got the opportunity to practice in front of the mirror because you chickened out of looking like an idiot even if it was in the privacy of your own home

but!!! you did try to practice some cool pick up lines because who doesn’t like a good pickup line or two??

the two mini milk cartons in your hand and the pack of doughnuts you have tucked under your arm aren’t too heavy so you aren’t too worried about having to wait in the line

for some reason the guy in front of you keeps turning around and glancing at you as if you don’t even exist

you are not casper the ghost

also casper is a little boy and you definitely aren’t a little boy

finally after a good five minutes the man ahead of you is having his stuff scanned but he’s STILL doing it. even levi notices and gives him an odd look which borders annoyance and anger.

“can i pay for your groceries? maybe walk you to your car?” the stranger asks suddenly

so that’s what this is, he’s simply taken an interest in you

my god this is new but it is uncomfortable and you’d rather say no

“oh, i actually walked here and no thanks i can pay for my own. enjoy the rest of your day!!” you hope your white lie is enough to fool the man but instead of agreeing as any other person would he looks majorly deceived

“i saw you in the parking lot.” ok this is getting a bit too uncomfortable for your liking

“c’mon i’m offering to buy your shit too?”

his voice is raising and you’re not sure what exactly you can do but thankfully for you the manager steps in and takes him away before any more threats can be made

the man had taken up so much of your attention you almost forgot levi was even there until you turned back around

“do you want a member of staff to accompany you to your car? it’s getting dark out.” levi’s comment helps ease your nerves and you try to laugh off what just happened

“i’m good :-)” you say shaking a little. you’re unsure if it’s the cold or the fact you still haven’t completely calmed down

“you sure peaches?”

“i haven’t bought any peaches this time.”

“you’re still peaches to me.” your cheeks flush at his confidence

wait, maybe this is your chance. you’re the last person in his line and they’re closing up for the day so...

“could you walk me to my car?”

and to your surprise even before you can take back what you’ve said levi agrees

it stays like that for a while.

every thursday levi walks you to your car by the end of his shift, all the while the two of you exchange a few words together

like last week you asked him what his favourite colour was (he said purple) you’ve learnt about his hobbies (he’s a decent cook), you’ve even found out about some of his own personal problems. he had mentioned suffering with insomnia in passing.

to be honest each and every time he walks you to your car he has to notice that you begin to park further and further away from the front entrance. but if he does notice he doesn’t say a word about it

“is that all you’re checking out?” you ask with a cheeky grin plastered across your face

looking down at your new dress your lopsided grin is far from fading away any time soon. you especially picked this one out after asking levi what his favourite colour was last week

god. this is so embarrassing but never actually have you had a crush this huge

levi who’s sat behind the counter shoots you a look which almost seems to be on the verge of uninterested. he isn’t entertaining this at all or this is just his typical bored face, you can’t really tell

BUT..... you still have a huge crush on him and you aren’t one to give up this easily

for the record you don’t harass him or anything, just the occasional hint is thrown around but he’s either really dense or doesn’t care

his expression does you no favours, you can’t tell what he’s thinking half the time

“you’re always buying energy drinks... might want to cut down on those they’re no good for you.”

warmth blooms in your chest. he’s just saying it to make small talk but the fact he even thinks to bring that up has your heart fluttering

“i- well- yeah i will!! just have a few overdue essays to get over with :-)” twiddling your thumbs together you think that makes your nerves too obvious so you begin to scratch at the back of your neck

if anything is a dead give away it’s your constant neck scratching, thankfully levi hasn’t picked up on it

“so you wore purple today?” his eyes linger on the thin straps of your dress and you feel the goosebumps rise up onto your skin immediately

“oh yeahhhh-”

“did i tell you yellow was my favourite colour last week?” he asks holding up a neon yellow pack of crisps and for the first time you see him smile

he looks so ?!|>\€|^ pretty ?!/)/&

wait?? yellow??

“didn’t you say purple?”

“no?” he crosses his arms playfully over his chest thinking for a bit

“maybe i did but no it’s really yellow.” he says as he hands you your bag

nodding your head you smile “yeahhhh sure it is.”

damn, now you’re going to have to find a yellow dress just to make him revert back to purple because who even likes yellow?? that’s a deal breaker right there??

update

it’s been two weeks!!

and a yellow dress has been found and secured B-)

it’s been a pretty rough day at work and you need to desperately collect a pack of green tea and get going

you don’t know when exactly being a secretary meant you had to babysit your boss’ children but that’s what the last week has entailed

being made to work overtime to this extent has had an effect on you and you’re ready to head home as soon as you swing by ackermart

not seeing levi for a week made you a little :-( because to be honest he’s the highlight of your thursday evening BUT!! you’ll be able to see him today at least

walking in through the entrance you’re met with connie smiling right at you, he holds the door open for you and smile back greeting him

“so you didn’t come last week...?”

it’s weird for him to ask that, after all you don’t really speak to anyone here apart from levi, you’re surprised you’re enough of a regular to be known by name

“oh i didn’t think anyone would notice? but yeah i had to work overtime you know what boss’ are like.” groaning you crouch down and look at the pot noodles on display

“i didn’t notice it. boss man did.”

“boss man?” you ask feeling out of loop

“levi.” connie answers as he hops into the backroom

????

isn’t he just a cashier??

“you still look confused.” connie remarks as he heads back out with a cardboard box full of pringle’s tubes

“levi’s the boss man, this is his store. he literally only ever mans the cash register on thursday evening because of you.”

at that you start laughing because it makes no sense at all to you

there’s no way connie is being serious

“good one.” you say as you stand up with a chicken flavored noodle in your hand

“i’m not kidding?”

turning around you give him a skeptical look

he sighs and shakes his head.

“listen. me and the part timers are tired of making bets on when he’ll give you his number and i bet that it would happen today so if you could confess to each other that would be perfect!!!”

“who said i like-”

“anyone with a brain can tell you both like each other.” he’s rolled his eyes so far into the back of his head you begin to take him a little more seriously now

“i... did i make it that obvious??” you’re directly facing him trying to get out as much information as you can

“yeah. very. at least levi wasn’t as bold.”

“i think you’ve got the wrong end of the stick he definitely doesn’t like me.”

connie gives you an “are you fucking with me?” look and you look away trying to distract yourself with the the canned goods lining the shelves

“he was worried sick when you didn’t come in for the entire week. he even asked me if he scared you away.”

“maybe i’m just his favourite customer?”

“favourite customer my ass he has a crush on YOU. confess.”

playing around with the ends of your sleeves connie sees he’s fighting a losing battle unless he gives you definitive solid proof

“please... i’ll get free barbecue if i win the bet and i’m kinda broke rn :-(” okay, you do want connie to eat well and be treated and maybe this is a good thing. if levi doesn’t like you then you can move on!!

“i’ll think about it.”

before connie can continue talking you make a beeline towards the tea aisle whilst throwing a “see you next time!” over your shoulder.

by the time you’ve gathered all of your groceries your basket is full to the brim. you’ve been lingering as much as you can out of fear but you think you’ve collected just enough courage to ask for his number

looking at the cash register levi is sat there and your shoulders slump. he’s probably going to say no and you’re going to look like a huge loser.

right as you’re about to take a step towards him levi finally spots you and gives you one look before standing up from his seat

“hi!” you wave at him

“...hey!” he smiles wide but he bites it back pretending it was never there in the first place

placing your basket in front of him he eyes what you’ve got

“hm... lots of peaches as per usual peaches.” the nickname that rolls of his tongue makes you tremble a little. will he call you that after you fuck everything up with this stupid confession?

his tongue pokes at the inside of his cheek when he gets to the heart shaped box of chocolates

“a gift for a friend? didn’t know you had those?” he teases as he scans the barcode

“gift for a crush!” you reply back enthusiastically as you dig through your wallet looking for your card

levi doesn’t respond for a few seconds and an awkward silence fills the air. you glance up to see him looking at you open mouthed in shock

“good luck.” he murmurs under his breath he’s not even returning your gaze at this point and is hurriedly scanning through your barcodes

“you okay?” you ask worrying about his mood

“yeah, yeah. great.” he’s quieter than usual.

the rest of your encounter is the same, levi silently bags your groceries and you can’t tell if this is a good or bad response.

just as he’s about to place the heart shaped box into your plastic bag you lunge forward holding his wrist to stop him

“no i don’t need those.”

he cocks his eyebrow upwards trying to analyse your expression and gain an understanding of your thoughts

“don’t tell me you’re chickening out. whoever it is will say yes.” he scoffs as he places the chocolates into the bag handing them over to you with a warm smile

there it is again. the fear returns and you swipe your tongue over your slightly dry lips.

no way.

is he telling you to confess to someone now? so he must not like you?

taking the bag away from him you scratch your neck out of habit and huff feeling frustrated

“he keeps giving me mixed signals.” you say hoping he catches your drift

“give him the chocolates and let him put two and two together. don’t even say anything.” his advice would be great if he weren’t the guy you were trying to confess to in real time

nodding you reach into the bag and bring the box back out before gently placing it in front of levi

“are you serious?” he asks and your face drops seeing the possible displeasure in his eyes

great, connie and the part timers just over analysed he doesn’t like you, obviously he doesn’t like you, why would he like you?

without looking back you hurry out, the embarrassment is eating you away now and the thought of ever returning to ackermart isn’t even feasible in your mind

at this point you may as well change your name, identity, dye your hair, have a few children and wear sunglasses the next time you come back so you look like a soccer mum and not the foolish y/n who thought they had a chance with their cute CASHIER???

god, you probably look like a creep

the sound of footsteps can be heard behind you and labored breaths follow before levi calls out for you

“please wait up.” he grumbles. slowing down your pace you let him catch up to you. he grabs at your wrist and sighs in relief

turning you see him savour the air

is this the part where he confesses he likes you too or—

“your receipt you forgot it.” he gasps as he opens your hand for you and places it into your palm

oh.

fingers clasping shut onto the paper you feel the humiliation seep into your pores

this.

is.

the.

worst.

moment.

of.

your.

life.

“open it.” he offer you a boyish smile and your nerves don’t let you find comfort in it

you grimace as you fold it open, you’re imagining he’s charged you an extra £100 for having unwanted feelings for him and if that’s the case you’ll die on the spot

but instead your eyes light up in joy. you’re pleasantly surprised

...

inside of the receipt is his phone number haphazardly sprawled across in black biro - you even double check by comparing it to the number for the customer service helpline

hello??

HELLO.?.!/)£ HIS NUMBER???

“if you just wanted to return the chocolate this is embarrassing.” he’s the one who’s now scratching at his neck and you find that he’s endearing this way

the streetlight from above illuminates him, the shadows cast over his face and his brows aren’t furrowed as they usually are

you open your mouth to reply but connie cuts you off unintentionally. he can be heard YELLING into his phone ecstatic that his plan has worked out

“I WIN!!! HA BBQ’S ON YOU JEAN!! MUST SUCK TO BE YOU.”

you and levi look at each other and laugh, reassuring the other of what has just happened.

well...

you guess this is the start of something new? maybe??

:-)

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lothlaer · 3 years

Note

Proposal: Jaskier's got a fist clenched painfully hard one time when he's really really hurt and Yen has to force his palm open so she can tangle their fingers together and try to keep him from hurting his own hand. And they're both kind of like "oh" at some point idk 😳

Anon this apparently awakened something in me, so thank you for expanding on my post and giving me the inspo to write (checks notes) 1.7k. Hope you enjoy whatever this is!!!

Pre-yennskier, description of blood and injury, 100% hurt/comfort. Read on AO3

“Stop fucking moving,” Geralt hisses, pushing down hard on the hips beneath his hands to still the man’s squirming.

A choked off, muffled whine dies in Jaskier’s throat, his lips pursed tight enough to turn them pale and thin. He’s panting through his nose, clearly in agony, and too out of it to understand that moving will only make this worse.

Yennefer spares the witcher a glance, noting the anxiety and fear that’s obvious on his face, in the tension across his brow, the frantic not-focus of his eyes that flick between the bard’s half-delirious expression and the gaping wound at his side.

She’s done all she can to heal him, sealed up the torn and leaking insides that they all know would have killed him if they hadn’t been here – that still might kill him if they can’t stem the blood loss and prevent infection. She thinks of it like this; clinical, sensible, because she has to.

Jaskier’s heartbeat is quicker than it should be, his breathing equally fast, panicked and pained and shallow. She keeps her ear trained to its frantic rhythm, notices how Geralt’s heart thumps faster than normal too, almost human, almost matching hers. She’d laugh at the symmetry of it all, if it were funny. She’s sure Jaskier would write a poem, if he knew, but she won’t ever tell him.

He stills a little under the pressure of Geralt’s hands, though still struggles. He probably can’t help it by this point, too confused and the pain too intense to allow much rational thought. Geralt can’t work if he keeps kicking, shifting his hips to try to escape the discomfort.

“Yen,” Geralt growls, and she’d tell him off if she thought it would help.

She tells him off anyway, growling his name back as she presses her weight onto the bard’s chest, keeping him pinned. She watches his face, stares at the lines of tears down his temples, wrung out from his scrunched eyes.

The tight seam of Jaskier’s lips splits open, a deep groan and hitching sob forcing its way out as Geralt flushes the wound. He shifts again, and it’s only then that Yennefer notices his hands. The one nearest her grips at her skirt, tugging it towards himself, the other clenched tight enough at his side that the whites of his knuckles stand out even against his bloodless skin.

She reaches for it before she can think about it, dragging his hand over his chest, looking at the way he’s digging his nails into the meat of his palm.

Yennefer doesn’t say anything as she fits her thumb under his, prying it open like the hinge on a rusted box. There’s no treasure within as she does the same with his fingers, forcing them loose enough that his reflex to clench releases, each digit unfolding only to reveal deep indents in his skin like faint purple mouths.

She slips her fingers between his, taking the pressure into her own grip, resting their joined hands over his heart.

He blinks up at her, eyes wet with tears, then lifts his head to look down at himself.

“Don’t look,” Yennefer snaps, pointedly leaning forward to block the vivid red of Geralt’s hands from view.

She knocks her knuckles against his breastbone, drawing his attention back, and he focuses in on the press of their skin together.

She thinks that if he had enough blood left in his body to do so, Jaskier would be blushing. She feels heat rise in her own cheeks in sympathy. His lips part on an inappropriately dreamy sigh, and she realises she’s stroking her thumb back and forth over his clammy skin, then swiftly stops.

Yennefer checks his expression and discovers his eyes on her again, a long moment dragging on as she finds herself unable to look away, their faces closer than she realised and his short breaths puffing against her skin. She’s horribly aware of their entwined hands, the unpleasant sensation of drying blood and mud between them, the frantic heart mere centimetres away, trapped beneath only by fragile human flesh and bone.

Between another aborted cry of pain and a feeble attempt at another kick, Jaskier lets his head fall back to the ground, gaze swimming and dizzy as he stares up at the canopy of the trees above them, his grip tightening to the point of pain as the joints in Yennefer’s hand compress.

She loses track of time for a while, her knees and back aching from being folded over for so long, the quiet and sometimes unpleasant noises coming from Geralt working opposite her the only way to gauge how long they’ve been here, alongside the warbling beat that still echoes against her eardrums. It’s not like his usual music.

She looks back to his face after some time, catches his eyelids fluttering.

“None of that,” she scolds, loud enough to jerk him back into wakefulness.

She turns her head to look at the wound, relieved to find it closed with stitches, no longer sluggishly leaking blood down Jaskier’s side. He’s still covered in it, soaked into his shirt and the trousers covering his propped-up legs, even on the blanket they’ve thrown over him.

Geralt looks up and the relief is clear on his face; they’re not out of the woods yet, but it’s a step in the right direction. His eyes flick to Jaskier’s hand in hers, looking pointedly at where he’s still gripping her dress too, then walking away with a mutter about getting bandages.

Yennefer finds herself alarmingly embarrassed, and withdraws her hand.

Jaskier doesn’t complain, his fingers falling loose and curled where she leaves them.

Geralt returns quickly, begins packing the injury. Jaskier jerks again, then they begin the agonising process of winding bandages around his waist, having to manoeuvre him upright enough to pass them under his back.

By the end he’s even sweatier and paler than he was before. His noises of pain throughout have been quieter than Yennefer was expecting, the usual volume and raucousness of his voice muffled and contained. It’s simultaneously impressive and irritating – men, she thinks.

He groans long and low nonetheless as they shift him sideways onto a bedroll and prop another bag under his knees.

“It’s done, it’s over,” Yennefer finds herself saying quietly while Geralt resituates the blanket.

She wipes a tear away from Jaskier’s cheek with the backs of her fingers, and tries not to overthink the action in the seconds afterwards as his sobs subside.

He’s trembling, either from pain or shock or the cold, and Geralt wastes no time getting him water with some herbs mixed in. He drinks greedily, water spilling out around his mouth until the witcher urges him to slow.

Geralt lays him back down, calls his name softly until his wobbly attention wanders back to them.

“All better?” Jaskier murmurs after a moment, eyelids already half-mast.

Geralt lays a wet cloth over the bard’s forehead and holds his palm on it, steady and reassuring, long enough to lean over and catch Jaskier’s gaze.

“Good enough,” he says, beginning to wipe away the sweat and dirt from Jaskier’s face in gentle strokes.

“Bastard,” Jaskier mutters, eyes falling closed. He only settles for a moment before jerking awake, his eyes wide and alarmed. “Yen?”

He looks around blearily, waving an uncoordinated hand out – seeking her presence, Yennefer realises. She reaches for him, grasping his hand in hers. His gaze snaps to her, and softens.

“Okay?” he asks.

His skin is cool, his heart still racing.

“You’ll be pissing us off with your usual obnoxious poetics within a day, I imagine.”

He frowns at her and shakes his head almost imperceptibly.

“No,” he swallows dryly, “you okay?”

Yennefer opens her mouth, ready for a witty retort to manifest, but all that emerges is the escape of a surprised breath. She thinks of the way they’d been standing side by side when the attack had happened, the way the bard had fallen against her and brought her to her knees in the grass and mud, last autumn’s shed of rotting leaves compacting beneath her hands. The drip of red blending against the dirt. Her stomach twists, then releases.

“Rest, Jaskier.”

He still stares at her.

“I’m fine, you fool.” She squeezes his hand again, thinks of the indents on his palm. “Rest.”

He does, finally, slipping easily into something deeper than sleep. She knows she and Geralt will have their senses fixed on the pump of his blood for days yet, and that it’ll be a while before his body replenishes what he’s lost.

For now, the steadiness of his pulse and his breathing will have to be enough, even if they remain unnatural and fast.

Yennefer realises she’s been staring for a while when she notices Geralt bringing a bowl over, his hands and arms already washed clean of the mess from the past hour.

“Wonderful timing,” he says dryly, shaking the red-tinged water off his fingers with a couple of quick flicks.

“For what, witcher?” Yennefer says shortly, her nerves strung thin and dangerous.

Geralt snorts. Yennefer glares.

“For a realisation.” He smirks at her, smug.

“Fuck off,” she spits, not turning away quick enough to miss the way the man’s smile widens further.

She draws her hands away from Jaskier, his grip limp now, and washes her hands too, surprised to see the ripples on the surface from where she’s shaking. Geralt comes up behind her, his hand falling to her shoulder, and they both look down at the bard. The porcelain tinge of his skin is unnerving, his eyes bruised, and dirt and leaves still cling to his hair. But he’s alive, alive, and the knots in their chests release.

She thinks about leaving now her job’s done, the unpleasant warmth blooming somewhere in her gut making her want to run away, to flee from whatever the bard’s pain and gaze and hands have triggered in her, the feeling snapping sharp like a wire under her skin.

Geralt squeezes her shoulder.

“Stay with him.”

Yennefer feels the words rumble through her, less than an order but more than a suggestion. Her heart leans into it, giving way so carelessly to harmonise with the rhythm of his.

She stays.

#yennskier #jaskier x yennefer #yennefer x jaskier #the witcher #witcher fanfiction #witcher fanfic #hurt!jaskier #geralt is here too lol but i think he's just their Bro #loth txt #my fic #anonymous #ask #i'm gay i like hands ok

396 notes · View notes

cafeinthemoon · 3 years

Text

Madara with s/o who’s secretly developing a new (and dangerous) jutsu 🔥

And finally we have the third Grandpa with is s/o doing dangerous things under his nose haha As I said before, each Founder’s part ended up too long so I divided the request in three and I hope the anon who requested it don’t get mad at me because of this XD Anyway, if you want to read what I wrote for Hashirama and Tobirama, you can click on their names 😉

Now let’s go to see Madara’s reaction!

Fandom: Naruto | Madara Uchiha

Symbols: 💗 | ◻ | ▶▶

As you can easily imagine, things are way different when it comes to Madara in such situation

Because unlike his partners who took some time to actually go after you and find out what you’ve been up to, he does it right at the first night

Okay, you use to went out every night for your personal training and that’s not strange at all, but that time he notices little differences in the process

An extra pack of ink tub and scrolls that you decide to put on your bag, a change of clothes (something you never carry with you in normal training sessions), extra medicine, these kind of things

Everything is pointing to two possibilities: whether you’re going to stay out for longer or you’re creating/perfecting a technique, and a complex one

Madara is not only an observant man: he’s curious, and unlike the Senjus the idea of invading your privacy is not enough to stop him from following you that night

It’s how he finds out you’ve been working to create a new jutsu

But you’ve created other jutsu before. Why would you have to hide the process of this one from him?

The only way to find out is to watch you perform it and understand of kind of jutsu you’re creating

At first, he’s content in doing it. He’s interested in your technique, as well as to see how far you can get with it

But at the end of the session, he notices you’re more tired than you usually get after training

The obvious explanation is in the jutsu: it is not finished yet, so the amount of chakra it demands is yet to be defined. But he’s confident that you’ll soon find a way to fix this

He’s careful enough to go back home before you so you don’t notice he was out

When you cross the door, he comes to help you since you’re exhausted. He does the basic stuff to take care of you: runs you a bath, washes your hair, change your clothes, bring you some food and take you to bed

He has done this before after you came back from difficult missions

He also avoids questioning you, so you never get suspicions

And things stay like this for the next days

However, Madara sees that your tiredness is increasing at each night, and contrary to what he thought, you don’t do anything to fix the problem of chakra control

Is it possible that you’re unaware of the problem? No, it can’t be. You’re smarter than this

And because he refuses to see that you are in fact unaware of it, he doesn’t interfere, and your bruises and waste of chakra get worse as time passes

(Still, the jutsu is progressing in its other aspects, so you’re hopeful about completing it in the next days)

One night, he finally acknowledges your failure and decided to intervene

And thank God he does that in time

Now the jutsu is almost complete, you are almost at the final stage of your work and making the final moves, but the possibility of this being your death is real and Madara can’t let this happen while he’s watching

When he leaves his spot and grabs you in his arms, stopping you from completing the hand seals, you are frightened

You weren’t expecting to have company, and once you look in his eyes you understand everything

He has been watching you all this time, and maybe in the previous nights, ready to take action in case things get out of control

But things are under control right now, so why did he do that?, you ask yourself right before passing out with exhaustion

When you wake up, you notice you are back in your room. Each part of your body hurts and the morning light enters through the window. You can’t even think clearly

Only then you realize that the amount of chakra consumed by your jutsu was something abnormal (and that you should have paid more attention to that)

After falling asleep and waking up again, you finally manage to remember what happened that night: you were about to do something really irresponsible, but lucky you, Madara was there and stopped you

You look around and spot him entering the door with some medicine

At the exact moment your looks meet, he leaves the medicine aside and approaches you

He sits by your side and puts his palm on your forehead

“Fortunately, y/n, the fever diminished during the night. It is probably the effect of the treatment I’ve been applying to your bruises”

You don’t reply. You just nod with the energy you got

“Some of them will heal soon. Others are more serious”

How serious?, you want to ask

“Serious enough to keep you on this bed for the next days and not even think of performing any jutsu during this period” he says as if he just read your thoughts

There are many things you want to say, you want to ask, but you sense this is not the time

You two just exchange a look that says everything: you will talk about what happened when you’re recovered

Madara is a practical and organized man when he needs to be

He chooses a good medical ninja to examine you as the first measure and makes sure their instructions are being followed

However he prefers to do everything by himself

Not that you find it bad, though: he knows you better than anyone, so he knows how to take care of you

If you need to leave the bed for a moment (because lying all the day can be tiring too), he takes you out of the room at the right time. If you just want to stay quiet and alone in bed, he leaves you there

He seems to sense any minor discomfort you have and act to diminish it: a massage to cease the tiredness in your muscles, a lotion to the bruises that are still burning, stuff like this

Finally you are fully capable of leaving the bed and the house without help

You’re not getting back to work yet, but now you’re able to have the conversation about the incident

You tell him everything from the start: how the idea of the jutsu came out, your reasons to take it ahead, your measures to protect yourself and why you didn’t give up despite the risk of the technique

You also explain that no, you never noticed the failure responsible for the unbalanced chakra consumption that almost killed you. You only noticed that when you were under the treatment, and were willing to tell this to him

Madara listens to you without interrupting. Indeed, he seems interested in everything you have to tell about this jutsu

At the end of your explanation, you understand why

He says he has been observing your progress with the jutsu since the first night, when he found out about your project, and that he quickly noticed the failure in it

However, he didn’t want to interfere and were hoping that you would fix the failure soon, which you didn’t. And that’s why he stopped you from finishing the technique

Here you see the difference etween being with Madara and being with anyone else: somehow you’re not surprised to know that you’ve been followed, nor angry that he waited to stop you in a crucial point. Instead, you’re willing to know what he has in mind. You never think of the present; it’s always about the future

“Y/n, at first I was just moved by curiosity about your secret project, but the more I learned from it, the more I wanted to know. Now that you revealed the ideology behind it, not only I find this jutsu of yours impressive, but I believe it would be a mistake not to finish it”

You hold your breath. But you almost died because of this jutsu ???

He smiles, guessing your thoughts

“I will help you to fix the failure. And then you will try the jutsu on me”

He states that though he can understand the theory behind the jutsu, there are some details he can only check if he experiences it on himself

You can’t help smiling

Yes, it’s a practical solution for a big problem, but it also points out Madara’s level of self confidence and enthusiasm. The proposal sounds like something only he would do, and this is so funny

Yet it’s your only chance to save your technique and make all your hard work pay off, so you accept it and immediately start to make plans

Of course it will take some days until you can go to the first session because you’re still weak

But once you get better, you will start to work

When the day finally comes, you are nervous, but determined

The first thing Madara asks you is to perform the technique and be prepared, because he will stop it at the moment when the failure shows

He wants to understand where exactly is the problem

You do this a few times until he finds it

You make a pause and he explains the situation. You say you noticed the nature of the failure too, but couldn’t find a counteraction for it

Well, Madara has an idea, and he tells it to you

It involves changing one or two hand seals and alter the way you manage your chakra at same moment

You try again following these instructions. It’s not that easy, but you do your best

And to your joy, it works

You try other times, and soon your body memorizes the procedure

You write down new notes on your scroll and revise them with Madara

At the end of the day, you are tired, but feeling rewarded. You also apologize for not asking for his help before, even though you already told him you wanted to prove your own value by doing everything by yourself

He says you don’t need to apologize now that the jutsu is finally completed, and makes you promise that you will always try your new techniques on him from now on

You laugh hard at this and do your promise

#naruto requests #naruto headcanons #madara #madara x reader #madara headcanons

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lovemeleo · 3 years

Note

ok.... hear me out.... evgeni having to get his wisdom teeth taken out and being scared for the procedure and jackson comofrting him (also evgeni on anesthetics afterwards because I feel like that would be really funny)

(also I love your writing so much you're just amazing thx bye)

omg anon! I got so excited when I saw this prompt, I shared it with the whole SW discord server. Such a fantastic idea, and I hope I do it justice! I’m so glad you enjoy my writing, you’re so sweet! Hope you enjoy this fic xx

credit to @lumosinlove for the SW world and of course Nado & Zhenya

if you’d like to check out my other nuny fics, here are the links:

- Cuddles with Love

- Remus finds out

- A New Dream Come True

- I’ve Got You

- The Same Brainwaves

- All You Need

cw: anesthesia, talking about medicine and dental work

***

“Zhenya, you’ve gotta get out of the car.” Nado said, his head resting on the steering wheel. The only answer he received was a lot of grumbled Russian that he didn’t understand.

They had been sitting outside the oral surgeon’s office for 20 minutes. Luckily Jackson had planned in advance, getting them there an hour early. He knew Zhenya was nervous, it had been obvious since he made the appointment a month ago. Jackson could see the slight tremble in his boyfriend’s hands as he gripped at the sleeves of his hoodie.

Jackson reached over, resting a hand over Zhenya’s, “Baby, it’s going to be okay.” He murmured softly, rubbing his thumb over the frayed sleeve edge that covered Zhenya’s knuckles.

“Don’t want to go to sleep,” Zhenya whispered, turning his hand over to intertwine their fingers together. He had been putting it off for awhile now but the pain was getting too bad, struggling to sleep some nights.

Squeezing his hand, Jackson leaned over and resting his head on the taller man’s shoulder, “I know, babe. But it’ll be quick, they’ll sedate you and then when you wake up, it’ll all be over with and we can go home.”

Zhenya took a deep breath as he looked out the window, “Ok, let’s go. Before I lose confidence.” He said, quickly unbuckling his seatbelt and jumping out of the car. Jackson scrambled to follow him, grabbing his keys and phone before running to catch up to Zhenya who had already made it to the door.

After getting checked in, they sat down in the waiting room. The only sounds were Zhenya’s foot tapping nervously on the floor and the quiet music that played over the speaker. Jackson was thankful for that. If there were any type of dentist machine noises, Zhenya would’ve probably booked it right back out to the car.

Less than fifteen minutes later, a doctor came out the door, “Evgeni?” Zhenya’s hand tensed on the arm of the chair before he nodded.

“It’ll be okay, Zhenya. I’ll be waiting.” Jackson murmured, squeezing his hand before letting him go. He watched as Zhenya followed the doctor back, glancing back before the door closed behind them.

And then he waited.

Around half an hour later, a nurse came out, “Hi, are you here for Evgeni?” She asked, glancing down at her clipboard.

Jackson was up and walking over to her before she finished, “Yeah, that’s me. Is everything okay? Is he okay?”

“Of course. Everything went very smoothly. He should be ready to go within the next couple minutes. We should get back there, he was already asking for you.” She explained, leading him back to one of the rooms.

Before she opened the door, Jackson could already hear Zhenya talking. He couldn’t help the smile that spread on his face.

The nurse opened the door, “Evgeni, I found your Nado for you, hun.” She said, leading Jackson into the room.

Zhenya turned from where he had been rambling to the doctor in a wheelchair, his chubby cheeked face lighting up, “Котенок! You’re here.” He said. Or at least that’s what Jackson thought he said. He had ice packs strapped to either side of his face, gauze filling his mouth. And fuck, Jackson still thought he was cute as hell.

“Of course I’m here, Zhenya. Told you I’d be waiting for you.” Jackson said with a smile.

Zhenya smiled, his head flopping slightly to look at the doctor, “видеть? я говорил тебе. I told you. He’s so good.”

Chuckling softly, the doctor nodded, “Yes, I believe you, Evgeni.” He replied before looking at Nado. “I’ve prescribed him ibuprofen and Vicodin, which you can get from the pharmacy before you go. He can have one of each right away together, but after that it’s one pill of Motrin every six hours and one pill of Vicodin every 4 hours. It’s okay if you don’t remember all this, it’ll be on the bottles and the paperwork. Give us a call if he has any problems, okay?”

“Sounds good. Thanks so much for taking care of him.” Jackson said, shaking the doctor’s hand before he began pushing Zhenya down the hall.

Zhenya stared up at him the whole time, which was fairly comical as he couldn’t close his mouth, but he was still smiling, “Котенок. Hi.” Zhenya mumbled around the gauze.

Running a gentle hand through his hair, Jackson smiled as he made his way to the pharmacy, “Hi babe. You doing okay?”

“So good. Took nap, now I see you. So good.” Zhenya said with a shrug, his head lolling to the side. Once they got to the pharmacy, Jackson parked Zhenya next to one of the chairs. A hand grabbed his wrist before he could walk away though.

Jackson turned to see Zhenya’s pouting face staring back at him, “I need to go get your medicine, Zhenya.”

To Jackson’s horror, tears started welling up in his boyfriend’s eyes, “You go? You leave me?” Zhenya said, his grip falling from Jackson’s arm.

Squatting down in front of Zhenya, Jackson took his boyfriend’s hand in his, “Hey, don’t cry, babe. I’m right here. Not going anywhere. I’ll bring you with, okay? Please don’t cry.” He blurted out, pressing a kiss to Zhenya’s knuckles.

Zhenya sniffled, his free hand coming to rub at his eyes, “Promise?”

“Of course, I promise. I got you, Zhenya.” Jackson said quietly. He pushed the wheelchair up with him to the Pharmacy pick-up desk, parking Zhenya right behind him so he could get the medicine.

Just as he was about to hand the pharmacist his card, a large hand grabbed at his butt, making him let out what could only be called a squeak. Quickly whipping his head around, he gave Zhenya a dirty look, “Really?!”

Zhenya looked completely nonplussed as he leaned back into his wheelchair with the approximate of what Jackson would call a smirk if his face wasn’t so swollen, “What? You put it in my face, how can I not?”

Letting out a sigh, Jackson handed the card to the pharmacist who was now trying to hide their smile. They handed over the bag and finally they were off towards the door, “Do you think you can walk to the car? Or do you want to use the chair?”

“Can I walk? Of course I can walk.” Zhenya said with a huff, carefully pushing himself off the chair. His legs wobbled a bit but after a second, he got his balance, giving Jackson a wide grin. “See? I’m strong. I did so good.”

Chuckling softly, Jackson put the chair back before wrapping an arm around Zhenya’s waist to lead him out, just in case, “Yeah, Zhenya. You did great.”

Zhenya seemed to take Jackson’s arm around his waist as a come-on because the other man felt a hand slowly creeping its way down to the back pocket of his jeans.

“Zhenya, not while we’re trying to walk.” Jackson said with a laugh, squeezing the taller man’s side.

Humming to himself, Zhenya rested his head on top of Jackson’s, “Nutty taught me word for this. Cake. You have nice cake.” He punctuated his statement with another squeeze.

At this point, Jackson was just trying to get them into the car, “Thanks, babe. That’s very nice of you to say.” He said, opening the passenger side door before helping Zhenya in, getting him buckled in. He quickly got in on the drivers side and they were finally heading home.

Zhenya’s hand made its way over to Jackson’s leg as he drove, his fingers drawing shapes into the material of his pants, “I love you, you know, Котенок?”

A soft smile spread on Jackson’s face as he glanced over at his boyfriend, reaching down to squeeze his hand, “Yeah, Zhenya, I know. I love you too.”

The giant soppy grin was back on Zhenya’s face as he leaned onto the headrest, “I’m cuddle you when we get home. All day.”

Well. How could Jackson argue with that?

#nuny #jackson nadeau #evgeni kuznetsov #zhenya #nado #lumosinlove #sweater weather #mentioned: leo knut #fluff #wisdom teeth removal #tw: dentist work #nuny love #soft boys #fic writing #anon ask #ask box #anon prompt

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nanamisflowerfield · 3 years

Text

︵✿︵︵✿︵︵✿︵︵✿︵︵✿︵︵✿︵︵✿︵

anon requested: Namiii 💞 I made it! This is for whenever you have time okay? There's absolutely no hurry!! May I ask for a penpal AU with (to no one's surprise) Tsuzuru?? You can choose for it to be platonic or romantic, I'd be happy with anything! This AU just seemed to fit him lots haha thank you very much in advance love!! -Emily

︶✿︶︶✿︶︶✿︶︶✿︶︶✿︶︶✿︶︶✿︶

Part 1

“Mh? Are you going to the library again? I thought that you already finished the script. Why do you need to read more there?” Izumi asked the hardworking actor, who packed his bag. Tsuzuru’s eyes looked up to the woman in front of him as he stuttered out words of confusion. He just wanted to try to hide the fact that he wanted to write to his new friend. The friend he really liked a lot. They were different then many other people out there. “J-Just… Learning some new stuff… Hehe… I just want everything to be perfect.” He scratched his cheek as he turned around to leave the building and to the direction of the one place, he started to like a lot…

“I’m sorry… But may you tell me where-?” Your question was interrupted by the librarian, who shoved with a big grin that old precious book into your hands without even saying a word towards you. “T-Thanks…” You took it from her grab, walking with it towards the table near the shelf, where it belonged to, to flip carefully through the pages of it so the small ripped papers won’t fall out. It would be hard to put them all in there again. “That’s strange… I thought that librarians would pull them out… She was nice.” You mumbled out. Your hand held the pen tight in your hand as you wrote a few words on it for the stranger to read later on.

It was funny that you gained a penpal due to your now finished essay that you glanced at for a second, sighing in depression. “I really finished it… But does that mean now, that I can’t write them back?” The thought was like a punch in the face, shocking you a lot. At first, you started to write with that mysterious penpal, because of your shared feeling of boredom, but now he was like a true friend to you. Maybe even more. You had a lot of fun, when you shared your papers, wrote about yourselves and your feelings. It was like a special bond that only you two could have and now… Now that bond would break only because you finished that essay? Past-You would have been so happy to finish your essay before the deadline arrived, but it made you so sad, just thinking to never write him back. “Does my penpal even likes to write me…?” Tighter and tighter, you held the pen in your grab, nearly crushing it in your hold. “Should I ask for their number…?”

You were so deep focused on your little situation, that you didn’t even noticed that you were longer there than necessary. It was time to go, but your body refused to listen to you and preferred to sit on the chair, staring at the paper you wrote the question on, you had in mind for so long. Maybe you should ask something else or maybe tell them goodbye… It would be better. You shouldn’t disturb them.

“Mh… The librarian said it was supposed to be here… Where is it?” Tsuzuru stared at the shelf, looking it up and down in hopes to find the mentioned object that he loved to hold and read the small papers in which he shared his feelings, dreams, hopes and stories with the stranger that made him smile every single day. No matter how he felt, they could make him happy again and smile as if there were no problems on the planet.

Sighing that he still couldn’t find it, he turned around, thinking that maybe already had it, he sat himself down on a nearby chair. So, he wasn’t able to talk to them on this day? Maybe he should go and come tomorrow. When Tsuzuru’s eyes took a fast look around, before he stood up, stared to his left side, seeing a sweet person he often bumped into. They were sitting there, staring at a… wait… Was it some ripped paper?

Slowly, the brownhaired actor approached the silent stranger as he tried to take a closer look at the paper. Tsuzuru knows, that it was wrong and he shouldn’t do such things, but the curiosity of his was too strong.

Slowly, step by step, he walked to the stranger to take a glance over their shoulder to see the familiar handwritten words of his and their’s. His penpal’s! A gasp left his mouth as the stranger turned around, shocked by the small noise they heard behind them. “You…” They uttered out, surprised to see the attractive stranger they have met here many times already.

“S-Sorry… I-It’s just… The book uhm… It’s you.” Tsuzuru felt as if his brain left him there, leaving the poor actor alone with the person he has bonded over a book and mayhap even had stronger feelings than just pure innocent friendship for. “Me?” Confused, his penpal raised their eyebrow at the stuttering guy.

“Y-Yeah… You as in… You are them.” He pointed at the paper as his cheeks got redder by every second that has passed by. The library was silent. Not only, because of the mere people, who tried to read in silence there, but also because neither of you spoke any word out loud.

Irritated, your gaze switched between the paper and him. So, the mysterious, sweet and nice stranger was him? Time to get brave! You gulped, taking the paper off the book into your trembling hands, you shut your eyes close and shoved it into his palms. But when you heard a small chuckle that sounded so lovely, your eyes widen at him as he sat next to you. “It sounds great. Do you maybe want to catch a coffee now or maybe later?” He asked and laughed, when he saw you packing your bag faster than lightning. “Now.~”

Holding his hand with yours, you two left the library smiling and laughing as you talked about each other and thanking Fortuna and Destiny for meeting each other.

“Finally… They finished it, huh?” The old librarian walked to the old history book and raising it from the table to see the paper nearby, only to smile at it. “Young love mayhap?” She smiled at the other librarian, who was sitting at one of the chairs at the end of the room, who shrugged with their shoulders.

“Could I maybe get your number? So we could grab a coffee… I really like you and would love to spend some time together, if you don’t mind of course!!!”

#a3 imagines #a3 x reader #a3!#a3! act! addict! actors!#minagi tsuzuru imagines #minagi tsuzuru imagine #tsuzuru minagi imagines #tsuzuru minagi imagine #tsuzuru minagi x reader #minagi tsuzuru x reader #minagi tsuzuru #tsuzuru minagi #penpal

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sunqyu · 4 years

Text

~ Treasure realizing they love you and the first time they say it pt 1.

Request 1: “ hmm im all in cute feelings, so FIRST I LOVE YOUS with treasure reaction thingy, would be super sweet 🙊💗🌼🌼 “ - anon

Request 2: “ i love your writing! treasure realizing theyre in love with their s/o🥺 “ - anon

These requests are both so adorable and fitting so I decided to combine them. Hope you enjoooy. Also, buckle up ‘cause ITS A LONG ONE AGAIN. Got carried away as usual so it’ll be in two parts. K BYE <3 - Nova

Hyunsuk

realizing it

it doesn’t take much to make Hyunsuk like you

but to actually fall in love with you

that’s a different story

he’s alone at the studio, trying to get his verse right

every time he fixes something he didn’t like, he notices something else

he’s sat at his desk, elbows next to the keyboard

head hanging down with his fingers tangled in his hair

a sharp inhale

a shaky exhale

then his phone lights up, a message from you, asking if he’s home yet and how his day went

2.30am, he reads

he starts typing, frantically, on and on as the chaos in his head makes it’s way onto his phonescreen

only for him to stop and delete it all because he knows what he really wants to send you

but it’s too late and he doesn’t want to be a burden, you need your sleep too

when he looks up and sees his own reflection in the, now dimly lit, screen of his computer

another sharp inhale

‘Not so great to be honest, can I come to your place?’ sent.

on the way to your house he’s still thinking about turning back

but all those thoughts are long gone the moment you open the door

your eyes beaming at him, messy bun wiggling side to side and you’re wrapped up in a blanket

his heart melts as he feels the tightness in his temples and neck from the stress subside

‘Hi- I missed you.’

you probably didn’t notice but he almost said something else

he snickers to himself, that would’ve been a bit early

saying it

definitely the type to say it without realizing what he’s saying

you two are getting groceries

which, even though it’s not a special thing, is always so much fun

this time you ended up playing hide and seek

it wasn’t really discussed, you just lost Hyunsuk at one point and decided to turn it into a game instead of calling him

which means it’s your turn now

it had been over 20 minutes and he was getting worried

very impressed with your skills

but worried

in the end he decided to call you

to his surprise he hears your ringtone behind him

he turns around

the ringtone is still behind him

he turns around

what the-

he turns around but really fast this time

his eyes meet yours a second before you start dying from laughter

‘How long where you doing that for-?’ he laughed in self-pity and disbelieve

when he finds out you never left he sighs

‘Ugh- I love you.’ he mutters inbetween chuckling

for a second he freezes, a thousand things running through his mind

but y’know what? fuck it.

‘Yea- it’s true. I love you.’

Jihoon

realizing it

also seems like someone who does not fall in love quickly

mostly because he’s not looking for it, he doesn’t feel the need to be in love to be happy

but once he does

oh boy

so when you came in his life he wasn’t thinking about a potential relationship

or wondering if you two would be compatible

he simply enjoyed your presence and you two got closer as friends

because of this the moment he realizes he has feelings for you will be overwhelming for him

wasn’t ready

you weren’t even doing anything different than usual

just eating in the yg cafetaria, both rambling about things

subjects that made people walking by look up because they didn’t get the full story

out of nowhere he fell hard

the mechanism that’s supposed to be his brain malfunctioning

croissant in mid-air

it all just made sense

the reason why he could never be sad around you

the reason that made your eyes twinkle more than anyone elses

the reason you saying his name sounds different than when anyone else says it

the reason he’s now sitting with his mouth wide open staring at you without really looking at you

‘Y-yea, I was listening. Ofcourse I was.’

saying it

probably says it on a special occasion

not planned or anything

it just seemed fitting in that moment

he realized before you two were even dating so it’s not like there’s any doubt left

still, expressing it feels like a very big step

it was quite a warm autumn evening

you were sitting on the floor at the salon table

filled with food from different places

‘I’m so proud of us.’ he beamed

you had just finished a very important essay which is going to be a great advantage when looking for an internship

he had just ended filming their third music video

‘I wish I could show you, you’re gonna love it.’ he mumbled before grabbing another bite

it looked like a feast but takeout-style

you continue eating, enjoying each others company

all the windows were open because of the nice weather

a soft breeze would ruffle the curtains

the subtle sound mixing well with the music

Jihoon had looked for just the right playlist for almost half an hour

and it couldn’t have been more perfect

the warm light of the candles was accompanied by a desklight

you got it out of your room because the ceiling light wasn’t cozy but the candles weren’t enough to see each other’s face (or the food)

the topic slowly drifts to more nostalgic memories

dates to the beach, your weekend in Japan, meeting his friends

‘You know what’s funny? out of all of those memories the one that is most special to me was a really simple one.’ something in his expression changed and you sat calmly, waiting for him to continue

‘It was a few days before I asked you out on our first date. We were at yg, eating something.’ he grabbed another bite of food, chuckling at your impatient response

‘I don’t know what it was but out of nowhere I realized I was in love with you.’ the words came out while he looked at his plate, looking up only a second before he continued

‘I still do. I love you-, even more each day.’

Yoshi

realizing it

there’s not really a specific moment where it hit him

his love for you grew gradually

which is exactly how he liked it

from the moment he met you he was never nervous around you

he never felt like he wasn’t good enough or like he had to try harder

everything made sense from day one

there would be moments where is heart could burst from it

like the time you tried to fix his broken jeans with a youtube tutorial

or when you first fell asleep on his chest

the worst was when he couldn’t see you for a few days

as if the love in him grew and grew but he couldn’t give it to you

he just felt like he was going to explode sometimes

the other boys would notice very easily

‘I know it’s only a few days, you guys are right.’

his mind didn’t listen to his own words

‘I’m fine- I promise.’

but if it’s a few more hours he might not be

he would go to bed quite early these days

after he noticed that trying to distract himself wasn’t working

he’d scroll through photo’s you took together

and photo’s he took of you

he’d sent you another text, hoping your phone was off so he wouldn’t wake you up

a strange mix of happiness and sadness

luckily once he realizes his sadness is temporary and it only shows how special you are to him he’ll be able to focus on the happiness

thinking about all the memories you’ve made and will make in the future as he slowly drifts to sleep

saying it

finally

finally he was going to see you again

it was only like three days but boy was he DEPRIVED

he was the first done packing

the first in the car

the first to run into the dorm and put his bag away

aaaand the first to run out the door again

you two had been texting all day about movies to watch and all the stories he wanted to tell

his knee bumped up and down in the bus

he couldn’t remember the last time he was this hyped

only three more stops

he gazed out the window chuckling at himself

who would’ve thought someone could make him feel like this?

his hand clutched on to the souvenir he got you

two more stops

an old couple got in

yoshi always had a weakness for happy old couple

but now especially

he smiled politely at them

admiring how in love they looked

that would be you in the future, he thought to himself

one more stop

his smile was still on his face

recognizing restaurants you two went to

clothing stores where you complimented his style

and then

the bus stop

it’s the one where you two met

he still can’t believe he managed to strike up a conversation with you that day

but it must’ve been meant to be

he looked around frantically as soon as his foot hit the sidewalk

the sound of your shoes on the floor came closer

he turned to face the sound and before he could even see your face he was holding you in his arms again

tightly as if to tell the world you were his

a deep sigh left his mouth before he mumbled into your hair

‘I love you- I missed you so much. I’m so happy to see you.’

Junkyu

realizing it

‘stop being weird-’ ‘says who?’

you and Junkyu were laying on his bed

both with your limbs spread out, staring at the ceiling

you weren’t sure how long you’d been there

he hummed along to the song you just put on

before being interrupted by the sound of his own stomach

‘Oh wow- sounds like it’s time for lunch.’

you nodded in agreement as you grabbed your phone

he started thinking about what to get, watching you tap away on your phone

your hair was laying in a circle around your head

a shadow from the ceilinglight behind your phone over your eyes

he noticed how you pupils dilated as they adjusted to the light everytime your moved your phone a bit

your eyes are cool af, woah

he turned to his side, still looking at your features while you scrolled on your phone

the song changed and this time it was you humming along

your voice is so nice, he thought to himself

his dreamy moment was interrupted by you looking at him

oh right- food

‘Uh- I want uh-..’

to his surprise you tell him you already ordered

‘What- what about me?’

you listed the things you ordered for him, saying how you definitely knew what he wanted by now

he was shocked

if you aren’t the SWEETEST MOST THOUGHTFUL HUMAN BEING

then he wouldn’t know who is

his dreamy moment continued, even though you were staring right back this time, confused

he never felt like this before

like he wants to fast-forward and sit in a rocking chair with you, grumbling about youth

wait

fuck

this is love isn’t it?

saying it

he promised

he promised he wasn’t going to fall asleep during the movie

but look at him now

soft deep breathing, lips slightly parted as he was laying against you

even though you didn’t want to wake him up you had already seen this movie with friends and the remote was all the way on the table

you reached forward in slow motion

slowly

sloooooowly

Junkyu moved, rubbing his cheek against your shoulder before mumbling under his breath and laying still again

that was close

the journey continues

slooooooooooowly

you were only 10cm away from reaching the remote

‘N-no hh.. stay h- ple ase.’

a dilemma

lean forward a bit more or sit back and just let the man sleep?

bit more

sloooooooooooooooowly

your fingertips grazed the remote and it wobble side to side

‘Babe?-’ that definitely sounded more awake then earlier

but when you look at him you see he’s definitely not fully awake yet

‘Come back to beeed-’ he whined

bed? boy, we’re on the couch

you didn’t mention it and instead quickly grabbed the remote before you sat back down a little faster

‘Th-nk yo-’ he held you tighter

‘Love you-’

wait what?

Mashiho

realizing it

seems like a hopeless romantic to me

so might realize quite fast

this man has been fantasizing and imagining his future love life for so long

not to the point where he’s yanking flowers apart to find out if you love him or not

but he sees the beauty in so many things

enjoys the warmth of the sun on his skin

likes to watch people going about their day and thinking what their life is like

leaves sweet notes on receipts for hardworking employees to find when they come clean his table

little things but a lot of things

he has an eye for beauty and knows exactly how to use it for his own happiness

so he quickly noticed how happy you made him

it was again, the little things

but so so many

how your pinky finger was always a little higher than the rest when your hands were relaxed

how the cute baby hairs on the back of your neck would always leave your ponytail within minutes of putting your hair up

how your foot would bounce up and down when you sat with your legs crossed, even if there was no music

how every time you called him cute he had to keep himself from calling you cute because he knew you’d hide your face in your hands right after

the way you sat against the mirror when you came to watch him practice

sleeves of his sweater to long for your arms as you clapped after each song

loving you wasn’t something that happens at one point

it’s built within him since the moment you met

it just grows and grows as you take care of it with your cuteness and love

saying it

so much snow

everywhere

the snowflakes were most visible under the light of the streetlanterns

appearing and disappearing as they went back into the dark nightsky

the crisp sound from under your shoes was relaxing

you and Mashiho had a snowballfight after finishing about 20 snowangels each

it had gotten dark before you knew it so now you were walking home

his arm around your shoulder, rubbing softly to keep you warm

you felt the cold water through your gloves but sharing bodyheat was all you needed

both of you had soft smiles on your faces, walking in content silence

and you were also just EXHAUSTED so the quiet evening was a nice change

in some of the houses you walked by you could already see christmaslights and trees

he noticed you looking

‘Lets get our own decorations soon.’

you nodded happily, leaning against him a little more

this was going to be your first christmas together

you never expected to celebrate it with someone this year

the idea of setting up a tree together and the coziness it would bring made him feel warm inside

you discussed fun things you could do for christmas

ways to surprise the boys or what you wanted to eat

he listened to you talk about memories and future plans

when he noticed how clearly he was already involved in those future plans he couldn’t help himself

‘Hey-’ he gave your shoulder a squeeze to make you look at him

‘I love you, so so much-‘

Jaehyuk

realising it

it was the first time you were going to meet the rest of Jaehyuk’s group

a little nervous but mostly excited you walked to the front door

he told you to text him when you got there so he could see you before the rest did

a few second after you saw he read your message the door opens

you get a kiss on the lips, a tight hug and a kiss on your forehead all after each other

he wanted to show you love but also wanted to mentally prepare you for what was about to him

don’t get him wrong, he loves the other members with all his heart but he could imagine them being a little.... overwhelming.

before he could even ask you if you were nervous the yells from the living room began

curious heads peeking out from behind his back, 11 hands reaching out to you as they all wanted to introduce themselves first

you could make out some teasing to Jae followed by someone’s voice trying to keep the peace

he looked at you with slight worry in his face, only to be greeted by a cheerful smile

before he knew it you were bashing out jokes left and right

even standing up for him a few times in the funniest ways

he couldn’t be happier

so many people he loved in one room

one in particular though

he took a moment to sit back against the couch and look around in awe

so happy

after a few hours and some good food it was time for you to go home

he watched you end your conversation with Asahi

who, to his surprise, seemed like he didn’t want the conversation to end

you waved goodbye to everyone and got loads of no’s and why’s in return

‘It’s late guys, she still has to go home.’

saying it

you still heard the whining when you and Jae reached the front door

you talked a few more minutes about how much you enjoyed yourself and the funny and awkward moments you two noticed

‘Apparently you don’t only make me happy but my friends too.’

you beamed at the compliment

even though you enjoyed the night as well, the validation that they did too meant a lot to you

‘So I’ve been approved?’ ‘Clearly.’

he insisted on walking you home

you discussed the evening even more

he explained more about their personalities and memories he has with them which now made so much sense to you

your fingers were intertwined, arms swinging back and forth playfully

for some reason he felt a lump in his throat

but he couldn’t quite figure out why

it even distracted him from your conversation a few times

which is very unlike him so you noticed quickly

when you stopped walking to ask him what was wrong

looking him in the eye to show you you were not taking nothing for an answer

the determined look in your eyes made him realize what it was

what he had been holding back

but he didn’t say it

not yet

after a few minutes you reached your frontdoor

‘Thank you for the great evening, I’m sure they’ll want you back as soon as possible.’

he leaned in for a goodnight’s kiss, holding you close a little tighter than usual

for a second he pulled back

‘I love you-’

before connecting your lips again

#this took me forever but I'm pretty happy with it #hope you all enjoy!#treasure #treasure reaction #treasure scenario #yg #ygtb #hyunsuk #jihoon #yoshi #junkyu #mashiho #jaehyuk #kpop

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engagemachine · 3 years

Note

How would J react if Taylor swore infront/at him?

May 22nd: New update

Anon, I’ve been thinking about this ask for daaaaays. Had to write a fic. This is just part one (turned out a lot longer than I thought it would be--wrote it in one sitting) and I’ll post part two as soon as it’s done!

FYI: This takes place early on in Burn, probably sometime around chapter two, so Taylor is back in high school.

---

It’s still snowing outside when Taylor slides into her seat for third period English. She loves the overlarge windows in here, stretching along almost the entire wall of the left-hand side of the classroom. Black windowpanes showcase the little fountain in the courtyard, the stone benches seated around it, and the long, winding sidewalk where each senior from the class of 2002 got to lay down a single handprint in the cement to commemorate their pending graduation. Taylor thinks she would’ve liked that, to immortalize a piece of herself in that way, inscribing her name inside her handprint. Taylor B. It intrigued her, the thought of someone walking over her handprint years later, wondering who Taylor B was, what she was like, where she was now.

The fountain is frozen over, and the courtyard is blanketed in a thick layer of snow, still untouched. She wonders what it says about her that she often fantasizes about being the first one to run out and ruin it, leave her footprints behind, crunch through snow that is knee-deep, that no one else has sullied yet. There’s something about being the first person to disrupt the beauty of nature. Like stepping on a fallen dead leaf, the satisfaction of hearing it crackle beneath your feet. Or jumping into a still lake, watching the ripples that fan out across the water as you break through to the surface. Like leaving footprints in the sand at the beach, only to have them rinsed away by the incoming tide moments later. It’s a temporary disruption—and perhaps that’s the appeal.

Taylor settles into her seat and takes out her books. The classroom is unusually bright, the sky outside milky and pale as the snow piles up, falling softly in great big clumps. Mrs. Herndan leaves the lights off because they don’t need them.

Everyone is a little more animated than usual. If it keeps snowing like this, they might call it a half day and get to go home early. Taylor hopes that happens, that way she can order take-out and hang out with Mr. J. Maybe they can watch a movie together—something scary, so she has an excuse to cuddle up next to him, if he’ll let her. She’s been testing the boundaries of affection he’s willing to allow her to bestow, and recently she’s been surprised by how much she’s been able to get away with. Just last week she fell asleep next to him on the couch with her head on his shoulder—totally by accident—and he didn’t even move her. Just let her sleep there like that until she woke up, his hand heavy on her thigh, right above her knee, at which point she jumped up, all groggy and still rubbing the sleep from her eyes. She swore up and down that she was sorry, she’d never do it again. She was so afraid he’d be mad, but he just looked at her kind of funny, like he was trying not to laugh, and she blushed furiously and hurried off to her room.

Class is kind of boring, and it’s hard to focus when everyone seems just as distracted as she is. Mrs. Herndan has to stop her lesson twice just to tell everyone to be quiet and put their phones away. Taylor is snapped to attention each time she does. She didn’t even realize she had been staring at the window.

When the bell rings, Mrs. Herndan shouts out their homework assignment for the weekend, but it’s mostly lost to the din of jostling bodies and excited chatter of weekend plans as everyone fights to get through the door at once. Whatever. She’ll just have check the syllabus when she gets home. They’re reading Romeo and Juliet and it’s really hard to understand. Maybe she can find a way to rent a movie of it from the library—there’s supposed to be a version with Leonardo DiCaprio, she thinks. Maybe that’ll help. Sometimes she wants to ask Mr. J for help—and in the past she has, like when she had to make that volcano for science class, and he knew exactly what to do—but Romeo and Juliet is way too embarrassing. All those thees and thous, the declarations of love. Like she could ever ask Mr. J to interpret that for her, not without dying from embarrassment first.

She gets twenty minutes into her next class before they finally call it on the overhead speakers—school is closed. She smiles to herself as she packs up her books, already imagining herself curled up on the couch with her sketchbook and a cup of hot cocoa. She should still have some marshmallows left over—as long as Mr. J hasn’t eaten them all. He’s always eating her snacks. Sometimes, in a moment of pure frustration upon stumbling onto an empty bag or box of secret snacks she had stashed away specifically for herself, she tells him to buy his own snacks, but he always counters with, I did buy these, giving her a pointed look, and, yeah, he kinda did. It’s his money, after all. Not like she could buy any of this stuff without him.

She’s pulling the rest of her books from her locker and shoving them into her backpack when she feels a tap on her shoulder from behind. She turns around to face Jennifer Bartlett—from her geometry class—who is holds out a pink envelope decked in glitter and little metallic hearts.

“You’re inviiiiited,” she sings, thrusting the card into Taylor’s hands. Taylor blinks at her.

“Me?” she asks. Clearly this is some kind of mistake. Maybe a joke.

“It’s a sleepover, so bring a sleeping bag, okay? And like, don’t tell your mom or whatever, but my parents won’t be there, so make sure you just get dropped off in the driveway and none of your parents try to come inside.”

“Oh,” she says, her mind still swirling from the invite. A sleepover. “Okay.” She forces her gaping mouth shut, quickly nods, tries not to look too overeager. “Okay,” she says again, a little cooler, smiling a little. “I’ll totally be there.”

“Great!”

Jennifer bounds off down the hallway, joining a group of giggling girls waiting for her at the end, and Taylor looks down at the envelope in her hand, her name on it and everything. Taylor B.

She bites her lip and smiles.

Taylor can’t get home fast enough.

The bus takes forever, and they have to divert into South Side because of an accident near Paramount Park.

When she finally hops off the school bus and bounds for home, perhaps she takes off a little faster than she should. One moment her backpack is bouncing behind her as she races down the sidewalk, and the next, she’s spread-eagled and lying flat on her back, staring up at the gray sky as snow drifts down in soft little clumps around her. Oof. That hurt. She didn’t hit her head—thankfully—but she managed to scrape her cheek on the icy pile of snow packed into a miniature wall along the edges of the sidewalk. She thinks her cheek might be bleeding.

She doesn’t know what’s more embarrassing: the fact that she fell, or that the bus driver didn’t stop to help.

She winces as she gets up, wipes the blood from her cheek, brushes the ice and snow from her hands, wipes her palms on her jeans. The bus hisses as it pulls away, and Taylor’s cheeks burn. Maybe no one saw?

Her right leg kind of hurts, and she hobbles the rest of the way home, her excitement not dampened as she crashes through the front door, making it halfway through the kitchen before she remembers to shimmy out of her wet boots. Her socks are wet—there was a lot of slush on the sidewalks the closer she got to home—and her feet leave little wet prints on the kitchen floor before she gets to the carpet.

“Mr. J!”

He’s not in the living room, and he’s not in his bedroom, either, when she throws open the door and scans the bed, his empty desk. She frowns, pokes her head around the doorframe to her own bedroom. Not there, either.

“Mr. J?” She goes back to the beginning of the hallway, knocks eagerly on the closed bathroom door. She can see yellow light bleeding out from the crack beneath the door, doesn’t know how she missed that before. “Mr. J, you’ll never guess what happened at school today!” She waits a beat for him to say something—a grunt, even, some form of acknowledgement that he hears her, she’d take anything—but when she’s met with silence, she barrels on. “I got invited to a slumber party!” she gushes. She has both palms pressed flat against the door, is bouncing on the balls of her feet. “I ran all the way home to tell you, I can’t believe it!” she squeals. “It’s this Friday so we have to go to the store A-S-A-P so I can get a sleeping bag, okay? I mean—if it’s okay with you that I can go. But I’m sure it will be because I really want to go and I’ve never been to a sleepover before.” She sighs, taking a breath. He still hasn’t said anything, so she turns her back to the door and leans against it. He has to come out eventually. “And you won’t even have to worry about dropping me off because I can just take the bus, okay? I looked up Jennifer’s address at the library at school and I already wrote down how to get there, so I won’t get lost! Oh, and maybe I should get new PJs, too? And do you think that—”

The door is jerked open so suddenly she doesn’t have time to react, and she’s falling backwards before she can catch herself, straight into Mr. J’s chest.

He’s holding her underneath her arms, and she tilts her head back to look up at him—upside down—as he looks down at her. His greasepaint’s bright. Fresh-applied. She can smell its gummy texture.

She smiles up at him, a little unsure. A little frightened. His eyes are so dark. “Jeeze,” she says, lightly, trying to dissolve the tension. “You have to give me a warning, Mr. J.” She tries to laugh a little, but it comes out stilted, and the look he pins her with makes the smile slip right off her face.

“Maybe I would if I could get a word in,” he replies. He gets his arms behind her and pushes her off him. Taylor’s cheeks burn as she stumbles a few feet into the kitchen. She knows she talks a lot when she’s excited. She’s like a faucet that won’t turn off.

“Sorry,” she murmurs. She keeps her head low, a little afraid to meet his eyes. He’s in a bad mood—but she’s determined to go to this party either way, and she won’t stop prodding until he says yes. She glances up for just a second to catch the narrowing of his eyes, and then his hand is reaching out, closing around her jaw in a way that makes her flinch, pulling her towards him.

“What’s this?” he says. His eyes on her skin burn, and it makes the cut on her cheek throb in memory.

“It’s nothing,” she says, annoyed, maybe a little embarrassed. She doesn’t want to have to tell him that she slipped and fell. Also, can they please get back to talking about her slumber party? She impatiently reaches up and pries his hand off her—he lets her. She ventures a few steps back, watching him, and her back hits the counter with a thud. “But about the party—it’s okay if I go, right?”

He ignores her question in favor of taking a few lumbering steps closer—towering over her—and his fingers around her jaw are much softer this time when he takes it in his hand, tilts her head to the side so the cut on her cheek winks at him in the light that streaks out from the bathroom.

He sounds almost curious when he asks, “Did someone hit you?”

His question feels like a gut-punch. She looks up at him, eyes widening in surprise for a moment, and then her gaze narrows, and she’s a little more forceful this time when she pries his hand off her jaw.

“No,” she snaps. She can’t believe he thinks she got bullied. “I’m not a loser. I know how to fight back if I have to,” she scowls.

He looks at her for a long moment, his eyes hard and calculating, but she makes a point to meet his stare head on. She’s not going to flinch away. After a beat, he grins a little—some secret smile, like he’s in on some joke she’s not privy to.

“Of course you do,” he says.

“So can I go to the slumber party or not?”

Mr. J raises his eyebrows as he thinks about it. “Dunno,” he says, “I seem to recall your last little, uh, party, didn’t end so hot. Maybe you remember,” he muses, leaning down low, so their faces are level, “—or maybe you don’t, since you were high as a fucking kite.”

Taylor balks at him—he never curses, at least not around her—and she can’t help the way her mouth parts in shock. She can feel the threads of hope she’d been clinging to rapidly slipping out of her hands.

Truthfully, there’s not a lot she remembers from that night. Just a bonfire and a stranger’s half-remembered bedroom. The weight of a body she hadn’t wanted, a frisson of fear, electric as it sizzled down her spine, and then fumbling down the stairs, out the front door. Nobody had even cared. And then the frigid moon, the icy bite of wind on her cheeks. She remembers Mr. J, at some point, and waking up in that old airplane hangar, where she’d promptly puked her guts out over the side of the couch. The rest of that night is a blur. It’s probably better that way.

“It’s not—” she stops. Tries to find her footing around the right set of words. She just wants this so badly. It’s her one opportunity to fit in. To make friends. To be somebody. She wants so desperately to try and explain it to him, make him understand how badly she needs this—but somehow she knows he won’t get it. He doesn’t care about fitting in, or being liked—he’s the most unliked person in all of Gotham. Maybe even the whole world.

“It won’t be like that this time,” she assures. “There won’t be any boys there. I promise. It’s just a girl party. And I promise I’ll be really, really good and come straight home after.”

Mr. J’s eyes are dark as he watches her plead her case, and she takes the opportunity to stick out her bottom lip and put on an exaggerated pout. “Pretty please?” she says. “With lots of sugar on top?”

The corner of his mouth curls into a grin. “Okay, baby doll. Since you asked so nicely.”

“Eeep!” She squeals in excitement, immediately perking up, diving forward to throw her arms around his waist. She gives him a squeeze and he surprises her by patting her back. Once. Twice. His display of affection makes her cheeks warm, and she squeezes him a little tighter, happy to bask in the moment. “Thank you, Mr. J.”

Taylor buys a new set of jammies and a sleeping bag. She even spends the whole day prior reading about sleepovers, Googling at the library, getting more and more excited. She wonders if they’ll do face masks, or have a pillow fight, or watch a romantic movie, or paint each other’s nails?

She goes to Mr. J to model her new PJs for him, a yellow top with tiny blue flowers, with little matching shorts and a scalloped hem. She is bouncing around his bedroom—she had a Red Bull earlier for the first time ever, and whoa—and she does a cartwheel on the bed once she has his attention, collapsing into a heap on the floor because she misjudged the distance. She giggles, and then uses the bed to pull herself up while she prances around the room and chatters about her slumber party. She has a little notepad she found in a drawer in the kitchen, and after a few minutes, she flops back on his bed, holding the notepad above her face. She’s making a list of all the stuff she might need to bring. She read online that sometimes you should bring snacks.

“Hey Mr. J, cookies or chips?” she asks.

She turns to lay on her side, facing him, where he’s seated in his desk chair and has spun around to watch her, his fingers drumming against the armrests. His eyes are dark—but he doesn’t give her an answer.

She scowls at his lack of participation, and redirects her attention back to her list, tapping her pencil against her lips.

“Hmm… sometimes cookies have peanut butter, even if they say don’t, and I know lots of people have peanut allergies, sooooo… I’ll go with chips,” she decides, resolute. Her tongue pokes out when she makes a careful, neat checkmark next to the word chips.

She crawls off the bed and skips around the room for a little while longer, clutching her notepad, chattering to herself, mostly. She plays with the books on the bookshelf, all the little knickknacks left behind by the previous owner, rearranging them while she talks, musing about how cool this party’s gonna be, how many friends she’s gonna make. It’s gonna be great.

She lays down on the floor to make some snow-angels on the carpet, flapping her arms and legs slowly, staring up at the ceiling, feeling her energy start to wane. She asks Mr. J if he thinks she should wear her regular clothes to the party, or if she should come dressed in her PJs? And doesn’t he think they’re really pretty? And her sleeping bag comes with a built-in pillow, and isn’t that super cool?

She jolts awake when a pair of arms slip underneath her, hoisting her up, off the floor. She must have fallen asleep.

She frantically blinks the sleep back from her eyes. It’s dark, and she can’t see. “What day is it?” she asks, panicked, her voice cracking. “Is it tomorrow yet? Did I miss the party?”

“Shhh.” Mr. J carries her the short distance to his bed, lowers her to the mattress even as she wraps her arms around his neck, refusing to be put down. She doesn’t even have the forethought to marvel over the fact that he’s just put her in his bed, that she’s lying down on his pillow, or that the covers smell like him.

“But did I miss it? Is it over?”

She thinks she can hear a smirk in his voice when he says, “No, baby doll, you didn’t miss it. Time to sleep.”

He peels her arms away from his neck, and this time she lets him. She sinks into the mattress, and sinks quickly back into sleep.

#anonymous #asks #Burn #Taylor #new update #it's not finished yet but I just wanted to update with what I have to so far :)

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sunflowersseemhappy · 4 years

Note

hi!! so glad your requests are open again- can I get modern main six picking mc up from the airport after a long and tiring trip? ty 💖

Hi to you too anon, I’m glad my requests are back open too! I hope you like, I quite enjoyed this little scenario and I’ve got requests for a Modern AU so more of this is coming!

REQUESTS ARE OPEN and here is my Masterlist!

Asra

Always on time, Asra says it’s because he has ‘magic powers’.

In reality he just has the app that tells him when your planes land.

Likes to sneak up on you outside the gates, but his white as always hair generally makes him stand out.

If he’s able to he’ll grab your bags before you’re through the gate and you find him sitting on the large suitcase with that fox-like smirk after he texts “Behind you! 😜” to your phone.

Standing up and opening his arms as you slouch into them and give him a tired kiss as he lifts you up so your toes are off the floor.

He usually pulls your chin up to give you another lingering kiss on your lips before picking up your bags.

He updates you on any news on the way to his car, opening the door for you and then lugging the bags into the trunk.

When he’s sitting in the car too Asra will lean over and give you another lingering kiss as he pops the glove compartment open.

Handing you your favourite snack and drink as well as popping in your favourite music CD or radio station.

On the car ride home Asra is either rubbing your knee or holding your hand at every possible second, talking about the new recipe he found for pumpkin bread and how Faust managed to escape her tank again.

His smooth chatter lulls you to sleep every time, that, and the jet lag.

Now that he expects it Asra has a nice warm pile of blankets and pillows to snuggle up in every time, cradling you in his arms as he lies back and enjoys the sound of your soft snores.

He doesn’t mean to but he usually falls asleep too, often times he finds the escaped Faust nestled up on his chest when the two of you wake.

You find it pretty funny how friendly that little snake is toward Asra, and how much she likes cuddles, but you can’t really complain.

Asra’s cuddles are the best.

Nadia

Usually on time, although her day job sometimes makes her a bit late.

She’ll text you all the same to tell you when she’s on her way or there.

Nadia usually waits by the exits to the airport for two reasons:

a) its hard to find her way in crowds (especially given she’s been on a few magazine covers) and...

b) she wouldn’t get to hold up the sign near the taxi drivers that says “love of my life” for you to find her (you get a few stares and giggles but it is pretty cute).

As you go up to her Nadia will loop her arm around yours and help you carry the bags with a vivid smile, asking how the journey went, etc...

Once the two of you have packed up the car Nadia will loop her arms around your neck and give you a long smooch on the cheek, giggling at the mark her lipstick leaves.

Rubbing it off with her thumb she’ll beckon you to get in the car and depending on what you want to do or what time it is Nadia will ask you if you want to go get a massage, or go to a restaurant.

Most of the time you shrug, wherever Nadia is you’ll be happy, although you really fancy some of your favourite take out food (think KFC/McDonalds/Chinese).

But whatever you want Nadia obliges with a wink and a kiss as you rumble down the roads in her car.

Afterwards when you’re yawning so wide Nadia jokes you could swallow an orange whole she takes you home where the two of you chat over your take out and joke over strange happenings.

Outside the owl Nadia has named Chandra watches your shadows by the window.

Then the two of you watch a movie, it doesn’t take long until you are asleep, snoozing against Naida’s chest as she fiddles with your hair and thinks about the meeting she has in the next hour.

She can cancel, this moment with you is much more important.

Julian

Julian is always late, every single time, but not overly so.

He’s never been more than an hour late, but night shifts are tough on him so you don’t really mind.

Its a good time to grab some coffee and sort out any missed calls on the flight whilst waiting for him. Free Wi-Fi is a god-send in airports.

Just as you’re about to check up with Julian on the phone, a tall lanky man, all too familiar pulls out a chair and slumps across the table.

Taking a final sip of your coffee you’d laugh if Julian didn’t look so upset about being late once again.

You just ruffle his hair sympathetically and nod in understanding as he grumbles into the table, dipping your own chin to rest it on the table.

You give him a quick fleeting kiss on the corner of his mouth when he looks up at your silence, face instantly going crimson as you place your hands either side of his face and nod to get out of the airport.

As the ‘gentleman’ he is Julian insists on carrying all your bags, it’s like a game of Tetris (that he’s loosing) as you watch him fumble disastrously with the keys, the truck and the bags.

When he sets aside the suitcase to open the door for you it starts loudly clattering away across the uneven ground and he has to race to save it from getting smashed under another car.

Once the two of you are finally in the car, Julian breathless from running and you breathless from holding back laughter the two of you give each other smiles and snigger between yourselves.

Julian offers you some of his cold coffee on the way back home, which you manage to decline. Thankfully your warm coffee is working just fine.

So much so that when you get back to your little apartment the two of you spend all night in the kitchen, talking, drinking and cooking some successful and not so successful dishes (thankfully the neighbourhood raven Julian has affectionately named Malak is more than happy for the scraps).

Somehow you’re both drunk enough to dance and twirl each other around, lazily kissing until you collapse to the floor leaning against Julian’s shoulder from the exhaustion in your feet.

You wouldn’t have it any other way.

Muriel

Muriel is usually early to the airport, he likes to make sure he can avoid traffic and have Inanna (a wolf dog mix) buckled up to come along. Inanna loves car rides.

And to your memory he has never been late once.

Given his dislike for crowds you usually find him perched on a bench outside the exit scanning the crowd for you and once he sees you his face brightens, then goes red when he realises he made such a face.

Inanna is instantly jumping at your heels as she runs to greet you, almost knocking you off balance as she does so, Muriel is up on his feet steadying you before you know it.

“Inanna missed you... and so did I.”

Your hand slipping into his Muriel leans down so that he can plant a kiss to the top of your head, cheekily you reach around his neck and hug him placing your lips against his with a small smirk.

He turns brighter red, beginning to lead you off to his car, carrying all your bags in one hand and leading along the suitcase in the other.

Once they’re in the trunk you bump into Muriel affectionately, his own smirk plays on his lips as he helps you up into the cab of his pickup, as soon as you’re seated Inanna is trying to lick your face.

As Muriel pushes Inanna off you he offers you some of your favourite seasoned bread and some boiled eggs to snack on as he drives the three of you home.

By the time you’re back home it’s raining and you racing Muriel into the house, you’re pretty sure he let you win but even so the both of you are soaked to the bone.

You spend the evening in your small bathroom, dancing around each other to reach things, somehow the two of you both fit in the tub together and wash each other’s hair.

Leaning back on Muriel in the warm soapy water is enough to make you doze as he combs your hair through his fingers.

Muriel makes you a nice warm meal just before you fall asleep properly in his arms with Inanna laying across the two of you.

You’re home.

Portia

Like her brother Portia is always famously late.

Usually because of her various hobbies and huge workload.

Retreating from the hustle and bustle of the airport you find a nice spot to chill out and flick through your phone, thankfully Portia sent you a text saying she’d be late but was on her way.

Just as you’re finishing a soda, a small Portia-shaped creature tackles you with a squeal of joy, bowling you over into the grass. Jubilantly yelling “you’re back! You’re back, you’re back, you’re back!”

It definitely creates a scene but you don’t much care about that as you hug Portia back, your face burying into her curls.

When you pull back Portia is reeling off all kinds of questions, barely taking a breath in between and not really waiting for your answers, with a roll of your eyes you give Portia a smooch to shut her up.

That triggers her to kiss you a bunch of times all over your face, until you yell for mercy.

The only one of the six who doesn’t drive Portia is glued to you as you ride the buses back home, as if she’s afraid you’ll leave again.

To make up for being late she’s brought you your favourite Starbucks/Costa drink and the two of you sip on them until you finally get home.

Pepi comes to greet you (in a little sweater?) with much meowing and by winding herself through your legs, it takes a lot of bribing with tuna for the cat to leave you be for the evening.

The two of you order in a pizza or two as Portia goes over her new hobby of making cat clothes with Pepi as the model, the cat gives you a miffed look that makes you laugh during the talk.

It takes hours for Portia to tell you what’s been going on and all the latest gossip, so much so that when she finally runs out of things to say you’re fast asleep with a placid smile on your lips.

Portia has god to admit, you’re pretty cute when you’re asleep.

Lucio

On time or late, but never early.

Lucio’s been counting down the seconds till he sees you again, but usually that leads to him getting bored and falling asleep.

That particular day Lucio is on time and it is not hard to miss him...

When he pulls up in his shiny new car (the second in a month) honking his custom horn and yelling your name from the window enthusiastically.

You let out a curt chuckle as he pulls up in the pick up bay and jumps out of his car, hair slicked back and ray-bans on his nose, not at all aware that his car is rolling forwards.

“Um...Lucio!”

“I know, I know, you missed me so much-” His arm comes to circle around your shoulders as he gives you a winning smile. You sigh wearily as the two of you hear a crunch.

“The handbrake is off again.”

Lucio is pouting in the cab of the recovery truck as it tows his car back home you can only comfort him about the loss of his new car.

But he surprises you when he explains that he was going to treat you to dinner at your absolutely favourite restaurant and that’s why he’s upset.

It’s so sweet that you cup his face and plant a kiss to the corner of his mouth, tousling his hair with your hand as you pluck his sunglasses off his face and sit them on your own nose.

Scoffing Lucio moves in to give you a much fiercer kiss, the recovery man clears his throat and you put a finger to Lucio’s lips to make him wait.

When you finally get dropped off and Lucio’s car is taken to the mechanic, you shrug when you get up to the apartment as Mercedes and Melinchor leap at your knees.

You manage to scavenge some microwave popcorn and a dusty wine bottle from the back of the cupboards (Lucio eats out a lot when you’re gone), and the two of you spend the evening watching terrible rom-coms.

Lucio kissing the back of your neck as you lie up against his chest, dozing off from his feather-light kisses.

Lucio only notice’s when you start to snore but despite the disaster of the day so long as you’re around not much can put him down.

Well except when he got a call saying his car was a write off.

#the arcana #lucio #asra #muriel #nadia #portia #julian #apprentice #julian devorak #arcana #the arcana muriel #the arcana nadia #the arcana julian #the arcana asra

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fanficflaneuse · 4 years

Text

Hardly A Date

Index

A/N: Hello lovelies! I’m sorry this took me so long. This has been a very awkward week. I was sad and I tried to dump my feelings into writing, but sometimes it’s not that easy...ugh I’m sorry. I hope you like this one. It was requested a while ago. Sorry for any grammatical mistakes. Also, I gave reader the physical characteristics of Lily Potters for (insert some good reasons). So, I am sorry if it’s not as immersive as it could have been.

Dearest anon requester, I’m sorry this took me so long. Let me know if you read it and like it (I really wish you do).

Draco x Potter! Reader (she/her) Word count: 2735 Summary: Draco has a crush on Harry’s twin sister, who resembles Lily Potter.

Enjoy!

Harry sulked all the way to potions class. It was the first day of fifth year and his twin sister, (Y/N), was getting too much attention for his liking. He had always thought his sister was beautiful, but now every boy in school seemed to have realized it as well. Over the summer, she had grown taller and curvier. Her red hair had darkened a bit more. She wore it long, which framed her face delightfully. The resemblances to their mother was such that not even aunt Petunia could deny it. It made her harsher towards (Y/N), but not even that dampened the girl’s spirits.

(Y/N) felt confident as she walked by her brother. Since they set foot on Hogwarts, she had been the more popular twin thanks to her kindness and vivaciousness. She paid no mind to the looks and laughed at her brother’s overprotectiveness. As the Fab Four sat at the very front, as per Hermione’s request, (Y/N) felt something hit her in the head. Her hands searched the back of her hair and grabbed the paper crane that landed on her head. She turned around to find the one and only Draco Malfoy staring at her wide-eyed. He had sent the bird as a taunt to her twin brother and in no way had intended for it to hit her. The thought of her seeing the cruel drawing inside the bird made his stomach churn.

Draco was transfixed. It was the first time he saw her since last year and her striking green eyes were doing wicked tricks to his heart. Since year one, he had a crush on her. He thought those who didn’t acknowledge her beauty should be burned at the stake. A year before, the blond had simmered in jealousy when he saw her at the Yule Ball with her brother, but that image paled in comparison to seeing her now. He cringed as she turned around, opening the paper crane.

Just as she did, Snape came in to the classroom. He was not in a good mood and it only got worse when he saw (Y/N) Potter sitting on the front row. She was scribbling something on a piece of parchment. She was the spitting image of Lily Evans during her schooldays, back when they were still friends and he clang to the sliver of hope that she’d love him like he did. It was almost painful to see his student. Her presence soured his mood even more, so he decided he was not putting up with it.

“Eva– I mean, Potter,” he said, motioning to (Y/N), “change places with Goyle.”

(Y/N)’s gaze went back, once again, to the back of the room, where the Slytherins sat. Gregory Goyle was sitting just besides Draco. She stood up silently and put her things in her bag. Harry groaned lowly.

“I’m definitely failing now,” he murmured.

(Y/N) gave him an encouraging smile. “It’s going to be alright, Harry. You’re good at this.”

“Never as good as you, sis,” he countered, “And if that prick does something to you I am going to kill him.”

She rolled her eyes in response and dramatically bid her brother goodbye. She walked all the way to the back of the room, where a very embarrassed Draco Malfoy waited for her. She greeted him cordially as she took her place. Draco and (Y/N) hadn’t crossed more than ten words at a time. She was not a hothead like Harry, so she hardly gave in to the taunting. At times, when he said something particularly nasty, she’d snap. Her comebacks were intelligent and sharp and often than not he’d be to flustered to answer. So, they were not on good terms, but not on a “I want to burn you alive and dance over your ashes” basis.

“I believe this is yours, Malfoy,” she said coolly after handing him the paper crane.

The Slytherin swallowed hard and took the bird from her hands without saying a word. He listened intently as Snape gave the instructions. Out of the corner of his eye he noticed her flipping through the pages in her book until she settled on the one with the recipe for the draught of peace.

They brewed the potion in silence. Draco was enamoured by (Y/N)’s gentleness and the way she’d handle everything with the utmost care. She was also unnaturally kind, as she didn’t seem bitter at him for the paper crane or anything, really. It was a relief.

“Are you sure we have to powder the unicorn horn?” He didn’t intend for it to come out as mean, but it sure sounded like that.

(Y/N) raised an eyebrow, as if challenging him, and theatrically put more pressure on her mortar. Her lips turned into a mischievous smirk and Draco had to stop what himself from putting too much powdered moonstone into the cauldron.

“I recall you saw me read the instructions,” she answered matter-of-factly.

Draco scratched the back of his neck. He took a deep breath and nodded at her sheepishly. “Just checking,” he murmured.

“You should check your hands before adding the ingredients,” she teased as she pointed at the moonstone.

He smiled and raised his hands in mock surrender. “Are you suggesting that I don’t know what I’m doing?”

“I suggest nothing, Malfoy. I affirm.”

Draco was about to answer, finding the playful banter amusing, when Snape scolded them from his desk. Assuming they had been bickering, Harry turned around, shooting daggers at the blond and giving her sister encouragement she didn’t need. (Y/N) shrugged and, after her twin turned around, smiled kindly at Draco. After that, they worked mechanically. As their potion turned into the desired turquoise blue colour, (Y/N) even concluded that they were a good team.

As Snape approached to their desk, (Y/N) noticed how he didn’t even spare her a glance. He talked to Draco and asked him questions about the process. And when he gave them their well-deserved O, it was Draco he congratulated. (Y/N) said nothing of it, but found it frustrating. When he walked away, she released the breath she always held when he graded her and started packing.

Before she left, she flashed her classmate yet another impish grin. “I exhort you to open that paper crane.”

Once she was gone, the Slytherin opened the folded bird to find her intervention to his work. He had drawn Harry being hit by a thunder and falling off his broom. She had altered it for it to be him, falling and hitting the ground wrapped in a cloud of dust. It was so well done, Draco couldn’t be offended.

…

For the next two months, (Y/N) and Draco worked together in potions. Every time, they’d engage in small talk and friendly banter. He marvelled at her wittiness and her sense of humour. He loved it when she got dramatic and made theatrical gestures or used aristocratic language just because. Draco was falling hard and fast for the redhaired Potter.

It actually made him wonder over the nature of his hatred for her twin brother. He found her funny and charming. He felt so at peace when they spent time together. And then there was Harry Potter, who he found utterly irritating, brash and self-righteous. He didn’t understand how they could possibly be related. She was amazing in absolutely every way he was faulty.

Maybe he didn’t particularly hate Harry? And why didn’t he ‘hate’ (Y/N) anyways? She was just as self-righteous as her brother. They were practically joined at the hip and she was always involved in the same shenanigans as Harry was. They had the same eyes. Why hate them in one and love them in the other? What was the real reason for him to go out of his way to torment (Y/N)’s twin and friends?

Deep down he knew.

These thoughts consumed him as he did his rounds for the inquisitorial squad. At first, he had joined Umbridge’s team because he wanted the authority and for a while he enjoyed it. Then, (Y/N) and Harry got punished by their sadistic teacher and he no longer wore his badge with pride. He knew they were up to something, but seeing (Y/N)’s swollen hand during their next potion class was enough to feel ashamed of his position.

Draco was just about to go to his common room, when somebody collided with him. He was too deep in his thoughts to feel the rush of getting someone in trouble. And then noticed the deep red hair and the scared green eyes. His heart started beating hard on his chest.

(Y/N) was absolutely terrified. She hadn’t realized it was Draco at first; she was running as fast as she could from the room of requirement. Usually, she left D.A. meetings with Harry, but today he was playing Don Juan with Cho Chang and everyone else was gone. She was good at sneaking around. She was halfway there when she saw Peeves and decided to make a run for it before he saw her and woke the whole castle.

That’s how she had ended practically in Draco’s arms. She was sweaty and out of breath and now she had to deal with the Slytherin prince. He was nice to her in potions, but she wasn’t sure that was enough to get her off the hook. (Y/N) imagined herself getting another detention with Umbridge and it made her want to cry.

“Hey, it’s okay,” he said as he grabbed her face tenderly.

For a second there, she thought she was hallucinating. She looked at him, eyes still teary, but also full of confusion. He smiled awkwardly, suddenly self-conscious of their position.

“A-Are you alright?”

“Just a bit agitated.” She tried to be as casual as possible.

“Let me walk you to your common room. That way nobody else will get you in trouble,” he said, offering her arm to her.

Draco knew that she was up to something. If he wanted to, he could’ve gotten all the dirt on their little secret society. She would’ve been in a lot of trouble and he’d be the hero of the school. He said nothing, though, especially because she was holding onto his arm for dear life. They walked peacefully towards the Gryffindor common room and with every step he could only think about the idea that had been brewing in his mind for a while.

(Y/N) thought she was in the most ridiculous situation. She was a member of Dumbledore’s Army and he was Umbridge’s minion. He could’ve gotten her, her brother and friends in trouble, which was what he had wanted to do since their first day in Hogwarts. And here they were, arms linked as he escorted her to safety.

Suddenly, they stood in front of the Fat Lady’s portrait. (Y/N) looked at Draco with gratitude. He nodded and offered her a smile. With trembling fingers, he tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. Draco noticed (Y/N) blushing a little.

“(Y/N)…there’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you,” he said, the sudden rush of confidence making him lightheaded.

“Yes?”

“Would you go to the next Hogsmeade trip with me? On a date?”

(Y/N) was speechless. She didn’t know Draco thought of her that way, but suddenly the fact that he didn’t rat her out made sense. Of course, he wouldn’t be as lenient had he found Harry or Hermione. She thought about it for a second and smiled when she noticed him getting uncomfortable.

“Let’s make a deal, Draco. The next Hogsmeade trip is a week from tomorrow. If you don’t bully anybody during the week, I’ll go out with you,” she proposed.

She noticed his eyebrows knitting in confusion. “What does that have to do with anything?” he groaned.

(Y/N) crossed her arms, amusedly. “Why would I want to go out with somebody that messes with my brother and my friends?”

He considered her for a while and then sighed in defeat.

…

“Is it true that you agreed to go out on a date with Malfoy?” Ron asked in alarm the next morning.

“I didn’t agree,” (Y/N) shot back as she put food on her plate.

Harry was looking at her disapprovingly and she was doing her best to avoid his gaze.

“You agreed to go out with him if he went a week without bullying us,” Hermione interjected with a reproving tone.

“That I did.”

“(Y/N)!” Harry roared.

“Wouldn’t it be nice to not be bullied for a change?” she asked him innocently.

“If the cost is that git snogging my sister then no, it wouldn’t be nice.”

(Y/N) gave him a stern look.

“What? That is what happens on dates, (Y/N).”

“Then you should hurry up and ask Cho Chang to one as well.”

She tried to be humorous, but it clearly didn’t work, so she tried to reason with him instead.

“Come on, Harry. It would hardly be a date,” she said while holding her twin’s hands, “besides, I know Draco can be a nice person if he tries. He has been to me in potions. Why not give him a second chance?”

Harry scoffed. “Why would I ever give that tosser a second chance? He has been messing with us since our first day here!”

They looked at each other and for a moment they had one of their silent conversations. Hermione and Ron stared as Harry failed to be stern and (Y/N) conveyed compassion in her eyes. As always, Harry gave in.

“You’re too kind for your own good, you know that?” he sighed, “and I mean it this time, if that prick does something to you I am going to kill him.”

…

“Which one’s better, ‘Mione?” (Y/N) asked as she held one dress in each hand.

Hermione helped her best friend get ready for her date. As much as she disliked Draco, the week events had made her realize he truly wanted to go out with (Y/N). Throughout the week, Harry and Ron taunted the Slytherin in hopes that he snapped at them, thus ruining the date before it even took place. Hermione had frowned upon their Machiavellian plan, but had not intervened nor rat them out. As the days went by, though, she noticed how hard he was trying to be good. He looked the other way as the Gryffindor boys laughed and teased. He avoided making snarky remarks in class. Once, he even helped Hermione when she tripped and fell.

It had been a very hard week, but he had succeeded. Now he waited awkwardly by the portrait for (Y/N), who arrived a few minutes later. She looked as beautiful as ever with a pretty floral dress. They smiled at each other and walked out of the castle, this time with the regulatory distance according to Umbridge’s decree.

As they made their way to Hogsmeade, (Y/N) thought this could possibly be the most awkward date of her life. It didn’t help that it would probably her first real date ever. What could they have in common apart from their shared space in potions? What would they talk about? Then, she noticed how Draco was fidgeting with his fingers. She found that cute and it made her instantly relax.

As they sat at the Three Broomsticks, all of their collective fears of a bad date were soon proved wrong. They had a great time together. They talked about their favourite candies, their favourite pastimes, quidditch. Draco asked about her life as a muggle with genuine curiosity. She was actually very blunt about her situation at home, something that both marvelled and unsettled him. They laughed and made jokes and got theatrical together.

They walked back to the castle hand in hand. Once they reached the school, Draco dragged (Y/N) through some less frequented corridors. Engrossed in their conversation as they were, they failed to notice the Gryffindor trio following them. Harry and Ron were absolutely enraged as they saw the couple stop behind a column. Hermione had to restrain them when Draco put his hand on (Y/N)’s cheek. She squeezed their arms as the blond boy leaned in and gave (Y/N) a kiss she happily corresponded.

Harry was livid. His baby sister had her arms around that slimy git’s neck. He wanted to rip his head off.

“Hardly a date my arse,” he muttered under his breath.

tags: @cleopatera @okaydraco @naomi02hook @the--queen-of-hell @honeymarvel @the-hufflefluffwriter

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kjhmyg · 3 years

Text

christmas/ny (drabble)

pairing: jungkook x reader | jungkook x oc

genre: fluff, steamy at the end

words: 1.7k

summary: re!couple celebrating christmas and ny with jungkook after the holidays

a/n: um first of all, sorry. this is so bad im cry but also it’s kinda ok? idk. sorry anon if this isn’t what u wanted. i’ll try again next year 2022 lmao

𝄖

As patient as he is Jungkook can’t wait for your nightly call. You try to stay off your phone for the most part being back home, leaving time to talk to Jungkook only when it’s dark out. Of course, some days you miss him so much that you break that rule to sneak in a couple of texts or photos. Today’s not one of them.

Unfortunately, he had missed your earlier call. Horrified seeing two notifications of your failed attempts to reach him, he’s decided not to do anything else till he hears your voice.

Jungkook shoves a spoonful of Suga’s homemade microwave spaghetti into his mouth, eyes not leaving his phone.

“You’re staring at that thing so hard the screen’s going to crack.” Suga judges him from across the table.

“I’m expecting a call.”

“Yeah, I know.” He sighs, “But it’s not like your phone’s on silent. It’ll ring once she⎼”

Jungkook jumps within the first few seconds of his phone lighting up, your name flashing across the screen. Leaving Suga to himself, he rushes into the room and takes a deep breath before accepting the call. “Hi.”

“Hey you.” Your chirpy voice makes him smile. “Missed you earlier.”

“I know, sorry. Was busy. Did you have fun today?”

“It was okay. We got a cute little tree and I managed to do some really last minute shopping because I just found out my cousins will be here tomorrow night.” You sigh. “Did you miss me?”

“So much. I hate being apart, you know that.”

“Well I did offer you to come home with me.”

Jungkook had declined again. He doesn’t think it’s the best time to introduce himself to your family yet. Though, he had no qualms about letting your dad know. Funny enough, you decided not to. But you’re certain you heard your grandmother telling him about the couple photo you have as your homescreen.

“Maybe next time.” He hums, thinking about the possible future.

“I think my dad will like you.” The sound of your giggles has him cheesing so hard.

“Is that why you chickened out on telling him about us?”

“I did not! The timing isn't right.”

“Sure baby.” He laughs. “You’re not embarrassed of me are you?”

“I’m embarrassed someone like you is even interested in me.” You both laugh and let the silence engulf you. “You know I love you right? I hope we can spend the holidays together next year.”

“I hope so too.” There’s a tiny amount of sadness in there if you’re listening right.

“I might not be able to call you the next few nights. Since my cousins will be over. I promise to text though.” You say.

“That’s okay.” You hear the smile in his voice. “Just have fun okay? I’ll be here when you get back.”

“One more week.”

“Right. One week. Seven days. I’m sure I can handle being without you till then.”

“Merry christmas my love.” You send him a kiss over the phone.

“Merry christmas to you too.”

When the call ends ten minutes later, he trots back outside, face looking even worse than before. Suga, now done with his food, shakes his head disapprovingly as Jungkook takes his seat and goes back to the sad, cold dish in front of him. “You’re pathetic.”

𝄖

Jungkook holds his breath as the train slowly comes to a stop at the platform. Yesterday was the first day of the new year, which means today’s the day you come back. He’d planned out his route. First he’d get coffee and bagels to-go with chocolate danishes for you, in case you hadn’t had anything during the long trip. Then a short stop at the florist to get you a single rose before going off to the station.

It gets messy as everyone starts alighting and he struggles to catch you among the crowd. That’s when you come into view, head popping out between other random faces, wrapped in a beanie and scarf. Your face lights up when you see him, making hurried steps and dragging your luggage behind you.

“Jungkook!” You squeal, running into his arms.

He kisses the side of your face. “Hey stranger.”

“I’m so happy to see you.” You say, squeezing him tight. “How are you?”

“You’re asking me that as if we aren’t constantly texting each other.” He laughs, handing you the rose and letting you cling onto his arm with your luggage in his other hand, headed for the car.

“I know I’m just trying to break the ice.”

Inside the comfort and warmth of the car, he kisses you deeply. Something he’s been looking forward to for the last three weeks. “How’s that for breaking the ice?”

You roll your eyes but a smile plays at your lips as you properly adjust the seat belt. Gasping when you’re handed chocolate danishes, you pout at him, “You’re so sweet. Come here.” It earns him more kisses which he happily accepts.

In the back seat you notice an odd shaped item, in purple wrapping, done quite messily. “What’s that?” You ask knowingly.

“A surprise.”

“I have one for you too.” You smile smugly.

“Yeah? Can’t wait.”

On the way back, you give him a run down of what went on back home. When he ended up confessing that he hadn’t done anything special for the holidays, not even with Suga, it made you feel bad. Even though he tries to assure you he didn’t want to celebrate it anyway.

Back home, you lug your baggage into the room and dig something out of your bag. A packet of cookies lands on Jungkook’s lap as he takes a seat on the floor in front of the couch. “For me?”

“Mmhm.” Nodding, you tear open the paper bag, behaving more excited than he is. “My grandma said she packed this for my friend. She winked when she told me that. And I’d already brought some back for Hana. I think she knows.”

“About us? How?”

“She’s always been nosy.” You giggle. “I guess she doesn’t want you to get left out.”

“Aw. She’s kind just like you.”

“Wait!” He pauses, startled by your hand on his, stopping him from pulling one of the cookies out of the bag. “Hold on.”

You get up and run to the room. Carrying as many pillows as you can with a comfy blanket somewhere in between, Jungkook watches as you make a barrier with the pillows and spread the blanket over him. Then, you’re off to the kitchen.

After a minute of cabinet doors opening and closing and the clinking of glasses, you come back with two mugs of hot cocoa, marshmallows on top of course. Just the way your dad makes them. You place it right next to him then push the coffee table all the way forward to make more room to spread your legs. You put on a lame christmas movie on netflix, then snuggle up next to him.

“Now it’s a real christmas party.”

Jungkook laughs, holding you close and kissing the top of your head. You do the most unexpected things at the most random times. But he appreciates the way you always try to make sure he’s not left out. “Thank you baby.”

You grin up at him and watch carefully as he takes the first bite of the cookies. His eyes go wide and you nod knowingly. It’s your grandmother’s famous recipe. One even if you had, wouldn’t even be able to replicate its taste. He hums in delight, stuffing his mouth with one cookie after the other.

“So. Let me guess what happens after cookies and cocoa.” He says after finishing almost half the packet.

“What?” You ask, eyeing him.

He reaches round the side of the couch and pulls out the odd package you had seen in the car. “Presents?”

“Presents!”

You run back to your room and appear with a small wrapped box. The rule was not to buy anything that costs more than your monthly rent. You both had agreed to this a while back. Which was difficult for Jungkook because all he wanted to do was to spoil you with expensive gifts.

“What is this?” Jungkook holds the box to his ear and shakes lightly. “Hm.”

“Wait I think I can guess what mine is.” You giggle, pressing into the soft parts of the wrapping.

“Okay then you go first.”

“Okay.” Tearing away the wrapping carefully, you find inside a soft, pink bunny with funky eyebrows. On the bottom of its little feet, there are hearts and in those hearts are both your names embroidered with a plus sign in between. “Aww no this is so adorable. I love it so much.”

“It’s not a diamond necklace but⎼”

“No this is so much better. Thank you.” You give him a hug with the bunny squished between your bodies. “It strangely reminds me of you.”

“Really?”

“Yeah it’s weird and I like it.” You giggle, pinching his cheek. “Now open yours.”

The wrapping comes off easy and he immediately realises what it is as the box comes into view. He looks at you for a second before unboxing it and pulling out a matte black polaroid camera. Jungkook takes his time with it, carefully looking at it from each side.

“Do you like it?” You ask. “I know you like taking photos so I thought you might like this.”

“Y/N I love it.” He smiles, bringing the viewfinder to his eye and getting a feel of it, then putting it down to focus on you. “Let’s take one together.”

You scoot next to him as he loads the film cassette. Then hugging his middle, he hooks his arm around your shoulders and your faces press against each other. He clicks the shutter and you both wait for the film to develop.

It comes out perfect, both your smiling faces perfectly in frame and even bunny made it in which makes Jungkook laugh. He can’t stop staring at it, holding it by the edges so carefully like he’s afraid he’s going to ruin it.

“I love you.” He says, looking at you when he finally sets it down.

“I love you too.”

He kisses you, tasting of hot cocoa and love. You’re being pushed onto the pillows with the blanket beneath as Jungkook hovers over you, pushing the hair out of your face. As Jungkook removes his sweater, you pull your shirt over your head. Jungkook smiles down at you, kisses you, then reaches for the camera. “Merry fucking christmas to me.”

You shimmy out of your jeans and hook your ankle over his shoulder. Snap. “And happy new year baby.”

#jungkook drabble #jungkook fic #jungkook scenarios #bts scenarios #myfic #rainworks #drabbles;re

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